


Bad Things

by scatterglory



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Drama, F/F, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, M/M, Porn, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 60,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatterglory/pseuds/scatterglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin Emrys had pretty much resigned himself to life as a thought-reading, table-waiting freak in the sleepy town of Camelot, LA. Then a vampire named Arthur showed up...</p><p> </p><p>**Warnings/Spoilers:** Noncon, dubcon, violent sex, unsafe sex, mind-control, torture, kidnapping, restraints, marking, intoxication, addiction, drug use, character death (none of the main characters).  Spoilers up through Season 3 of Merlin, and Season 4 of True Blood (no knowledge of TB required...).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **AN:** This is a fusion with the True Blood 'verse, but no knowledge of TB is necessary. All beta credit goes to the stupendous, phenomenal, and just plain amazing bend_me_baby! Thank you for being so encouraging, insightful and good at fixing what I broke! Naturally, all remaining mistakes are mine. :D
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a transformative work of fan-love. I make no profit and claim no ownership

“Sorry, sorry!” Merlin Emrys pulled on his uniform shirt as he half-ran, half-walked onto the dining area floor.

“Merlin, where the hell've you been?” Lance du Lac, owner of _Lancelot's Bar and Grill,_ frowned at him in exasperation as he snatched up his order pad and a pen. “I needed you twenty minutes ago—we're _swamped._ Whole town's here for the debate.”

“I know, I know, I'm sorry, I just—”

Lance sighed, not letting him finish. “It's always somethin' with you, Merlin, ain't it? This is the last time, though. It ain't fair to Gwen, she's been workin' double-time to cover for you.”

Merlin's face fell. “Got it, Lance. Won't happen again.” He swallowed. “Thanks for not firin' me.”

Lance's expression softened. “Reckon I'd have to be a damn fool to fire the best waiter I have,” he said gently. “Besides, you 'n Morgana are like family, and I'd never forgive myself—hell, all of _Camelot'd_ never forgive me—if y'all lost that old house. Not after the shit y'all have been through.”

Merlin managed a weak smile, his throat closing slightly as it always did when he thought about Gaius and his parents. “Thanks, Lance,” he said quietly. He met Lance's eyes. “You're the best.”

Lance smiled back, so warm and compassionate—and hopeful—that Merlin had to turn away before he picked up anything he didn't want to hear. “So, which table needs me first?”

* * *

Merlin navigated his way across the packed dining area floor, balancing over-laden trays with practiced ease. As the only bar in town, _Lancelot's_ was no stranger to weeknight crowds, but tonight it seemed like everyone in sleepy little Camelot had turned out to watch what the networks were calling “The Great Vampire Debate of 2012.”

Exchanging a quick smile with a frazzled-looking Gwen, he set down the order for his first table just as the debate started.

“With me tonight I have two special guests, Reverend Aredian of the Fellowship of the Sun, and Ms. Queen from the American Vampire League.” The distortion from the television speakers didn't hide the way that the announcer's voice trembled slightly as she introduced her second guest. Pausing long enough to glance at the screen, Merlin saw the elegant vampire incline her head graciously to her host, a small smile playing across her lips.

“It is both an honor and a pleasure to be here,” she said, her voice oozing like honey across the airwaves. Seated next to her, the Reverend snorted, and the occupants of the bar murmured in response. Merlin couldn't pick out what they were saying, but he didn't have to—their thoughts swirled around him, choking the air.

 _Ain't right, her sittin' up there in the open, high-an'-mighty as you please..._

Day- _um, if_ that's _a vamp, then stick a straw in my neck an' call me a fangbanger!_

 _An abomination, is what that is…_

 _Wonder where she got her outfit?_

 _I don't rightly understand what all the fuss is about. She don't look so scary to me._

 _That is one_ fine _-looking hunk of man right there …_

That last thought was directed at Merlin himself. He whirled around, blushing—sure enough, Gwen's brother and Lancelot's star cook, Elyan Smith, had emerged from the kitchen and was leering at him with a twinkle in his eye. Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled back. Elyan had been his first kiss, back in eighth grade, but it had been years since they'd been anything more than just friends. Granted, that didn't stop Elyan from harassing Merlin at every turn, but that was just his way. Merlin found it strangely comforting to know that no matter what other crazy shit went on in his life, Elyan would always be there: purple muscle tee, camouflage cargo pants, eyeliner and all, whippin' up the best damn grub in Loosy-ana outsida N’Orleans, served fresh with a heapin' side-order of innuendo.

After a sharp look from Lance, Elyan returned to the kitchen. A moment later, the people in the bar —and their thoughts—quieted, and the debate began. Merlin listened with half an ear, wincing as people's thoughts grew louder following each well-made point by either party. He reckoned he knew as much about what was going on as anyone else in the bar—which wasn't saying a lot, as residents of Camelot didn't put much faith in politics as a rule—but hell, these were _vampires,_ and everyone had an opinion about _them._

From what he heard as he delivered orders, bussed tables, topped off drinks and generally ran himself ragged, it sounded like the Reverend was going on about how vampires were children of the devil and should be destroyed. The vampire lady, Nimueh, as she laughingly insisted the moderator call her, reminded him that it was illegal to kill vamps without a trial, and that they were taxpaying citizens like anyone else. This point drew a murmur of approval from the more conservative townsfolk, and Merlin grinned to himself. Although vamps had proven that death wasn't actually one of the sure things in life, no one yet had been able to find a way around taxes.

Honestly, the debate sounded a lot like what everyone had already been saying—vamps are monsters, vamps are people too, vamps just wanna eat you, vamps can control themselves just like you can—especially now that there's Tru Blood.

Merlin's ears pricked up at that. Lance had ordered a case of Tru Blood when it first came on the market, but as Camelot _still_ had yet to see its first vampire, the stuff had gone bad. Before it did, though, Elyan had cracked open a bottle of synthetic B+ and dared them all to take a sip (warmed to 98.6, just like the real deal…). It had been nastier than a dead possum at midday, but apparently it satisfied vampiric hunger just as well as honest-to-God human blood. While most of (human) America was still skeptical, it was the perfection of the Tru Blood formula by Japanese scientists that had led to vampires across the world “coming out of the coffin” two years ago.

The debate wrapped up without a clear winner either way, and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief as the non-regulars slowly began to saddle up and head out. He frowned as he gathered his tips though—apparently, reminding folks of their downgrade from apex predator to potential prey had a chilling effect on their wallets. Merlin sighed as he tallied up his total for the night. If things went on like this, it looked like he’d be turning to Morgana for help to pay his bills this month. Merlin hated asking her for money; she’d moved out of the house as soon as she could to avoid the memories of everything they’d lost, but without her help, this month might come down to a choice between food and electricity.

Again.

Shaking his head, he forced himself not to dwell on the thought of losing the house that had been in their family for generations. If things had turned out differently, there would be no question of keeping it—but Merlin and Morgana’s parents, Balinor and Hunith Emrys, had been killed in a car crash when Merlin was ten. The modest inheritance they had received had been held in trust funds until they each turned 18. Supposedly, the money was meant to help send them to college, but they had actually spent the majority of it to cover the bills for Gaius' chemotherapy. Merlin fought down the anger that surged up whenever he thought about it—the hospital had promised, _promised_ him that the new type of chemo wouldn't be too much for the old family friend who'd raised him and Morgana after the loss of their parents. But Gaius hadn't made it, and the lawyers said they still had to pay, because there were just no guarantees in medicine.

So now, instead of having finished a degree at a prestigious university and being well along the way to having the career of his dreams (whatever that would have been), Merlin was almost seven years into a dead-end job as a waiter and stuck taking care of the Emrys family home. Morgana helped as much as she could when he asked, and he knew that some part of her was glad they still had the house, but Merlin knew he could only count on her for so long before her sentimentality was exhausted. Luckily, there was no mortgage to speak of, but there were repairs that needed doing, lights to keep on, property taxes to pay, and the rest of the chemo bills to settle up. Sometimes, when Merlin looked at his life, he wanted to scream—even setting aside his…gift, everyone had always said that he was something special, that he was gonna go places…

But this wasn't the time or the place to dwell on that; the night was still young, and he might be able to get a little more in his pocket yet. Taking advantage of a temporary lull, he ducked into the bathroom to check his reflection.

Shit. No wonder tips had been so lousy; he looked terrible. Worries about the house had been keeping him up at night, and the dark circles under his eyes were anything but flattering. Well, there was nothing to be done about that. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his dark hair, mussing it up artfully, and swapped out his white uniform tee shirt for a smaller one from the back. The new shirt stretched across his narrow chest and skimmed across his stomach, allowing just the slightest glimpse of his abs when he moved. Merlin wasn't naive—he knew his tips were always bigger when he played up his starving-orphan look, and he couldn't afford not to take advantage of that tonight.

He emerged after a few minutes and went to fetch some glasses from behind the bar. Lance was wiping the bar down, and Merlin saw his eyes widen as he took in Merlin's appearance. Wincing slightly, Merlin plastered a bright smile onto his face.

“Hey, boss. I was gonna set out these glasses here. Is there anything else you want while it's quiet?”

Lance's eyes flashed to his, then away. _I want you up against the bar with those shorts down around your ankles, moaning into my neck as I—_

Merlin turned around quickly, before Lance could see his expression. Keeping the smile plastered on his face despite his heaving stomach, he hurried away as Lance's thoughts instantly shifted.

 _Goddammit, I'm his fuckin’_ boss, _his_ friend, _I have no business wantin'_ …

Fighting down a hysterical laugh, Merlin set the glasses out and sought refuge in the back with Gwen. Lance tried, he really did, and Merlin stuck around because he knew Lance would never, ever make him do anything he didn't want to do…but that didn't make it any easier to hear. And the fact that Lance always beat himself up over it afterward just made things worse.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Gwen glanced up with a smile as he came up next to her. “Hey back.”

“Sorry for bein' so late. Lance said you were a champ, takin' care of everyone by yourself.” He smiled winningly at her, and she laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Save it, hot stuff—I know your shit. Why were you late, anyway?”

Merlin's smile faltered. He thought about not telling her, but Gwen had been his best friend since forever, and the first person outside his family to know about the…thing he could do. “I stopped at the store for some stuff, an' I heard old Mr. Jones thinkin' ‘bout what all he's gonna do with Mrs. Jones after their anniversary dinner tonight—”

“Stop! Hold it right there, mister!” Gwen shrieked, clapping her hands over her ears. “I do _not_ need to hear about that shit, they gotta be, like, a _million_ years old!”

Merlin grimaced. “I know. I had to get outta there, calm down 'fore I could be around folks again. I went to the cemetery. At least Mom an' Dad are quiet.”

Gwen made a sympathetic noise, but didn't say anything, and her thoughts weren't full of pity either. That was one of the reasons she was his best friend—Gwen never pitied him, or told him to quit his bitchin' because he basically had a superpower or something. She just believed him when he said that hearing people's thoughts, whether he wanted to or not, pretty much sucked no matter what.

“Hey!” Lance called out from the bar. “Get yer asses out here, you two, we got people to feed!”

Exchanging looks of resignation, Merlin and Gwen trooped back out to the dining area to attend to the few remaining customers.

* * *

The tipping was marginally better over the next hour and a half, but Merlin had still begun counting the minutes ‘til his shift ended (eighty-seven…nope, eighty-six now…). He felt dead on his feet, and didn't even look up when the door slammed.

“H-hi, Morgana,” Gwen stammered out from behind the bar. Merlin glanced up, torn between amusement and irritation as his sister made a beeline for the bar and ordered a double shot of whiskey from Gwen with her most charming smile. Honestly, Merlin didn't have to be able to read thoughts to see how happy Gwen was, that her long-term unrequited crush had decided to grace _Lancelot's_ with her devastatingly beautiful and utterly shameless presence; the way Gwen was blushing and falling all over herself to get Morgana's drink made that perfectly clear. Merlin had no idea how Morgana herself was so oblivious. She wasn't exactly the most…discriminating…in her choice of partners, but she'd never caught on that Merlin's best friend was head over heels for her. There had been a brief period of time, right after he and Gwen had graduated high school, when he'd contemplated spilling the beans, but…he loved Morgana, he really did, but Gwen could do _so much better._

Merlin watched out of the corner of his eye as Morgana flirted with Gwen out of habit, before receiving a text and breezing out the door with a wicked gleam in her eye. Merlin sighed and went to console his crestfallen friend as the object of her affections sailed off to sleep with someone else.

“Maybe you should pour one for yourself,” he said half-teasingly as he came up behind her.

Gwen jumped, and glared at him. “Outta my head, freak.”

Merlin held up his hands placatingly. “Not in your head, babe—just in your same general area.”

Gwen's shoulders slumped. “That obvious, huh?”

Merlin patted her on the back. “Only to anyone with eyes.”

Gwen managed a self-deprecating chuckle. “One of these days, I'll get over it, just…not today.”

Merlin pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head. “I know, honey-child, I know.”

They stayed like that for a handful of moments, before the couple at Merlin's last table starting shooting him dirty looks and he pulled away to deliver them another pitcher of Bud. Making sure to keep his face pleasant, he cleared away their empty dinner plates and resolutely ignored the lustful thoughts coming his way from the woman and the resentful ones coming from the man.

With one hour left to close, he was almost asleep on his feet when the door slammed one more time. Eyes closed with exhaustion, Merlin dully recited the bar's standard welcome: “Welcome to _Lancelot's Bar an' Grill_. My name is Merlin, an' I'll be your… _oh_.”

Finally managing to open his eyes, Merlin found himself staring into the clear blue eyes of an _absolutely gorgeous_ man. The stranger was about his height, but broader—his wide, muscular shoulders tapered to a trim waist in a way that made Merlin's breath catch. He looked directly into Merlin's eyes, and Merlin could barely breathe as he took in the man's thick, blond hair and full, red lips. Without even thinking about it, just knowing that he wanted, _needed_ to know something, _anything_ about this man, Merlin reached out with his mind…

And heard nothing.

Air hissed through his teeth as he inhaled sharply; that wasn't possible. He'd never met anyone he couldn't get at least a tiny thought from, but…

He tried again and found only stillness, as if the man _had_ no thoughts, or wasn't alive at all…

A vampire.

Merlin's mouth fell open. He stood there, gaping, until the man— _vampire_ , holy shit!—began to smile slightly.

“Hello, _Mer_ lin,” he said in a low, intimate tone that sent shivers down Merlin's spine. “I believe you were saying you'll be my…?” His voice trailed off questioningly, but his eyes flashed with mirth.

Merlin shut his jaw with a snap, feeling a blush blossom across his cheeks. “Your server. I'll be your server. To serve you. At your…service?” God, what was wrong with him? He'd seen vamps before, on TV at least; there was absolutely _no reason_ for him to be reduced to babbling like this.

The vampire's grin widened. “Excellent,” he said in the same tone. “Shall we?” He inclined his head towards a table, and Merlin started.

“Yeah. Yes! This way, you can sit over here.” Dammit, he was still babbling. He turned to lead the vampire over to a booth by the window, thoroughly disconcerted in being unable to tell if the vampire was following him due to his inability to read him. Reaching the booth, he turned back, saying, “Is this o—”

The vampire was directly behind him, nearly touching him. Merlin froze, unable to move or speak, as the vampire smiled at him. “This will be…perfect,” the vampire said, his lips only inches away from Merlin's. “Tell me, _Mer_ lin, do you have any Tru Blood?”

Merlin swallowed, his eyes locked on the vampire's. “N-no,” he stammered. “We did, but it—went bad.”

The vampire raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Merlin nodded without looking away. “You're the first one that I've—that we've had here.”

“Am I.”

“Yeah,” Merlin's voice was weak, barely a whisper. “Is there…is there somethin' else I can get for you?”

The vampire was silent for a moment, and Merlin thought he might actually faint from the force of his gaze.

“A glass of red wine,” the vampire said at last. “So I have a reason to be here.”

“O-okay.”

The vampire brushed past him, and Merlin nearly stumbled forward. “Red wine,” he repeated to himself. “One glass. Got it.” Without looking back, he hurried away to the bar, conscious all the while of the vampire's eyes on him.

At the bar, Lance and Gwen looked at him worriedly.

“You okay?” asked Gwen.

“Yeah. Um. Can I get a glass of red wine?”

Gwen wrinkled her nose, and glanced over at the vampire. “Really? He don't look the type for our cheap-ass wine.”

“Well, since we don't got any _Tru Blood_...” Merlin hissed in a low voice.

Gwen's eyes widened as she took in his meaning, and Lance glanced over at the table in alarm. “You sure?” he asked quietly.

“Seein’ as he asked for it by name, yeah, pretty damn.”

With trembling hands, Gwen poured him a glass. “Be careful,” she hissed as she handed it over.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “What's he gonna do, eat me in a bar full of people?”

“Not exactly 'full',” Lance said with concern.

Merlin glared at them both. “Did y'all not just see the same program I did? They can control themselves. I'll be _fine_.” Annoyed, he spun around and stalked off before they could respond.

He kept his eyes on the floor as he walked back to the vampire's table, trying to avoid tripping over his own feet under the vamp's unblinking stare. He stumbled and nearly fell anyway, however, as he approached the table and was hit with a wave of thoughts. Stunned, he glanced up, only to see that the man and woman from his other table had settled in across from and next to the vampire, respectively. The woman had draped herself across the vampire's shoulders and was whispering in his ear with a suggestive grin on her face; the man reclined in the booth and watched them with an unpleasant smile.

The vampire, however, was ignoring both of them and staring at Merlin, his face still and blank. Without thinking, Merlin moved forward, into the storm of frenzied thoughts, drawn by his captivating blue eyes. As he neared the table, the thoughts became more distinct—

 _He's buff an’ tall … gotta have a ton’a blood in him ..._

 _If she don't get him to come with us, I'll jes' wait ‘til he comes out after an' grab him then …_

 _...an' we can get that pretty waiter-boy too…once Jeb's hopped up on V, he won't give a damn who I'm fuckin'…_

Merlin slammed the wineglass down with a gasp, splashing most of it onto the vampire's shirt.

“Oh my God! I'm so sorry!” he babbled. “You stay right there, I'll go get you a towel—just _stay,_ okay?”

Without waiting for a response, he raced into the back of the bar. “Gwen! Gwen! They're gonna kill him—they're gonna drain him dry to make that V shit an' they're gonna kill him!”

Gwen's eyes widened in fear. “Shit, Merlin, they're V fiends? Them folk's bad news—don't you dare go back out there—”

“Gwen!” Merlin stared at her. “Didn't you hear me? They're gonna _kill_ him! We gotta do somethin'!”

He made as if to run back out, but Gwen grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around, slamming him against the wall.

“No, we do not!” she hissed. “We don't gotta get anywhere _near_ V fiends an’ a vamp! What the fuck's got into you?”

Merlin glared at her. “I can't _believe_ you!” he hissed back. “We can't let them kill him—that's _murder_!”

“And you think he ain't never killed nobody?” She didn't give an inch. “He's a fuckin' _vampire_ , he can take care of his own damn self!”

“He don't seem like a killer to me,” Merlin snapped. “But if I let them drain him, that's exactly what _I'll_ be!”

He pushed away and ran back to the front—

—but the booth was empty.

“Shit!” Merlin looked around wildly. There was no sign of the vampire. “Lance! I'm takin' a break!”

“But your shift'll be over in—”

Merlin was out the door and halfway across the parking lot before Lance had finished speaking.

“Come on, where the fuck did y'all go?” Closing his eyes, he _reached_ with his mind…

His eyes snapped open, and his stomach heaved. They were in the woods, and if their crazed thoughts were any indication, they were about to get _exactly_ what they wanted.

Fighting down bile, he sped off through the trees, coming up short at the edge of a clearing. His eyes widened at the scene before his eyes.

The vampire was lying spread-eagle on the ground, chains of silver draped across his ankles, wrists, and neck. Merlin could smell burning flesh from where the silver blistered his skin; the vampire's beautiful face was contorted in pain, his eyes closed and his hands clenched into tight fists. The man was kneeling by his side, holding what looked like an IV line as the woman hovered behind him, laughing.

“Look at 'em go!” she crowed. “We're gonna get at least ten-thou for this shit!”

“Not if the cops get it first!” Merlin stepped forward, startling a shriek out of the woman and a curse from the man. “They're on their way already. I called 'em soon as y'all left without payin'.”

“Why, hello there, darlin',” the woman purred. “How 'bout you forget about them cops, get yo' pretty self on over here, an' have a lil' drink with us?”

Merlin clenched his jaw. “'Less y'all wanna be arrested for assault an' traffickin', I suggest y'all leave him be an' get the hell on outta town,” he spat.

The woman's face twisted, and the man swore again.

“Come on,” he growled before she could speak. “Let's git. It ain't worth it.”

She rounded on him. “The hell it ain't!”

“We can get another one!” he shouted back. “'Less you'd rather sit yo' lazy ass in jail!”

Shooting Merlin a look that could curdle milk, she gave in. “Fine. Fuck this town, anyway.”

Merlin watched them head back toward the parking lot until they were out of sight, before running over to the vampire.

“Shit!” He pulled the silver chains off the vampire's limp form. “I _told_ you to stay put!”

The vampire didn't move.

“Come on, wake up!” Merlin was at a loss—how was he supposed to revive someone who wasn't alive to begin with? He reached out to slap the vampire's cheeks…

…and was flat on his back, the breath knocked completely out of him, trapped beneath the vampire’s solid weight. The vampire's hands gripped his wrists like a vice, pinning Merlin's arms over his head as the vampire sat on Merlin's hips. The vampire stared down at Merlin, blues eyes cold and suspicious, lips parted just enough to reveal the sharp points of two glistening fangs.

Okay, so maybe Gwen was right, and this was a real fuckin' _stupid_ idea. Merlin let out a small gasp as fear spiked through him. Then the vampire shifted slightly, and suddenly more than fear was rushing through his body…

“There aren't many humans who'd do what you just did,” the vampire hissed, his lip curling slightly. “What do you want?”

Stung by his tone, and rapidly heading toward an embarrassing state of arousal, Merlin glared up at him. “I couldn't just let them kill you, could I?” he shot back. “An' I don't want fuck-all from you!”

The vampire raised an eyebrow. “No?” He rolled his hips once, slow and deliberate, grinding down against Merlin. “Seems like that's _exactly_ what you want,” he sneered.

“N-no!” Panicking, Merlin started to struggle. “I'm not a—a _fangbanger_!”

“Oh.” Then the vampire was off him and all the way across the clearing. “Pity.” He bent down and retrieved the half-full bag of blood. “Want this, then?” he offered holding the bag out towards Merlin.

“Hell no, that shit's gross!”

The vampire laughed coldly. “‘Gross’ enough to kill me for.”

Merlin sat up awkwardly. “Whatever, I still don't want it.”

“Fine.” Without another word, the vampire tore the bag open, emptying the blood out onto the ground.

Merlin swallowed. “You're welcome,” he said testily as he got to his feet. “I know it stings, bein' rescued by a human an' all, but you could at least show a little—”

Then the vampire was in front of him again, almost touching—he gasped and fell back. The vampire grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close, studying his face intently.

“You knew what they were going to do to me,” he stated. “How?”

Merlin gulped. The vampire was so close that if he'd be breathing, his breath would have ghosted across Merlin's mouth. “Uh. Lucky guess?”

“Liar.” The vampire ducked his head suddenly, brushing his nose against Merlin's neck, _smelling_ him. Merlin gasped as a wave of heat crashed over him; the vampire hissed, and nuzzled the skin just below Merlin's ear.

“You smell…so good,” the vampire whispered, his lips soft against Merlin's jaw. “What _are_ you?”

“I—I'm just...” Merlin's eyes fluttered closed as the vampire nosed his way down Merlin's neck, “...a waiter.”

The vampire froze. “A waiter,” he repeated flatly.

Merlin felt a flush creep across his cheeks. “Um. Yes?”

The vampire pulled back slightly. “You're _just_ a waiter.”

The flush deepened, and Merlin bristled at his tone. “Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

The vampire raised both eyebrows. “Not at all,” he said archly. “I'm sure it's a perfectly respectable occupation.”

Yep, Merlin had officially gone from aroused to annoyed. “Fuck you,” he snapped. “I just saved your li—I just _saved_ you, an' you're gonna go ahead an' give me shit for my job?”

The vampire made an amused noise. He let go of Merlin and stepped back into an elaborate bow. “My apologies, Merlin-the-waiter,” he said formally, a mocking gleam in his eye.

“Emrys,” Merlin snapped.

“What?”

“My last name's _Emrys._ ”

The vampire attempted to look contrite. “My apologies, Merlin- _Emrys-_ the-waiter,” he corrected.

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “Don't mention it,” he said sarcastically, “Mr…?”

The vampire didn't take the hint.

“What's _your_ name?” Merlin asked, irritated.

The vampire grinned at him. “Arthur. Arthur Pendragon.”

Merlin stared. “Arthur? _Arthur_?” Laughter bubbled up as the name sank in. “What kind of vampire name is _Arthur_?”

Now it was the vampire's turn to look irritated. “It was a very popular name the year I was born,” he said defensively. “And it’s much better than ‘Vlad’ or ‘Spike’, or something ridiculous like that.”

“When were you _born,_ then? The fuckin' _Middle Ages_?” Merlin chortled.

The vampire— _Arthur_ , for crissakes—crossed his arms sullenly. “1845, _not_ that it's any of your business,” he snapped.

Merlin stopped laughing. “Wait, really? Were you in, like ...”

“The War of Northern Aggression?” Arthur sighed. “I was. It was a mite…perturbing…when we lost.”

“I…bet,” Merlin agreed faintly. “Is that when you…?”

Arthur looked at him thoughtfully. “No, it was several years after. Why?”

Merlin shrugged. “Just curious about how old you were when … ”

“Twenty-five.”

“Oh. Same as me—I mean, I'm twenty-five too.”

Arthur smirked at him. “How fortunate.”

Merlin swallowed nervously. “So, uh, what are you doing in Camelot?” he asked, grasping for a safer topic.

Arthur's smirk faded, leaving him looking vaguely uncomfortable. “I came back for work.”

“Came back?”

Arthur shrugged awkwardly. “I lived here before the war.”

“Oh.” Merlin wasn't sure how to respond to that. “Gonna be around for a while, then?” he blurted out.

Arthur's eyes flickered to his. “Yes.”

And just like that—and really, what the _fuck_?—Merlin felt himself blushing again. “Oh. Cool.”

Arthur held his gaze. “And you, Merlin Emrys. What are _you_ doing in Camelot?”

Arthur was doing that  _thing_ with his voice again—the same thing he'd done when he first spoke to Merlin, making it all low and dark so that Merlin felt like his skin was too tight.

“I'm from here,” he forced out. “Finished high school, got a job at _Lancelot's_ and just…stayed.”

“Because you're a waiter.”

“I guess, yeah.”

“I…see.”

And Merlin had the sudden, horrible feeling that Arthur _did_ see, that he looked deep down into Merlin and knew exactly what he was, and what he was hiding. The thought sent a thrill through Merlin, and he couldn't say whether he was more terrified or turned on…

Arthur moved forward again, slowly this time. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “for saving me.”

Merlin swallowed. “Y-you're welcome.”

Arthur's mouth curved in a half-smile. “I'm certain our paths will cross again,” he said, his eyes flickering down to Merlin's mouth. “But until then, good night, _Merlin Emrys_.”

Before Merlin could blink, he was gone, leaving Merlin alone in the forest with both a raging hard-on and the burning need to inform a one Miss Guinevere Smith that apparently not _all_ vampires could take care of their own damn selves.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next evening found Merlin back at  _Lancelot’s_  after spending the day in a state of restless anticipation. A thousand questions burned in his mind, things he should have asked Arthur, except he’d been too busy acting like a starstruck idiot.   
  
And there was a thought—vamps could play with people’s heads, right? So maybe he’d reacted to Arthur like that because Arthur’d been  _messing with his mind._   
  
Which, fuck, was all kinds of scary by itself...but at least it would give him an excuse for acting like a complete loser. At this point, he'd almost take what he could get...   
  
He waited tables for the dinner crowd absently, habit getting him through despite the distraction of replaying the events of the night before in his mind.   
  
After Arthur had fucked off to wherever (and there was a whole barrel of questions right there—where was he staying? Was the house he’d lived in before the…before, still there? If he hadn’t actually sold it, what happened when a house’s owner turned up not dead, but undead?), Merlin had almost got himself lost. He’d been wandering through the forest in a daze when the nameless stray dog that hung out around the bar had shown up and somehow guided him back. Gwen had  _not_  been pleased, and when Lance had come out from the back to check on him, he’d been pretty pissed off too.   
  
So the atmosphere at work was a bit…strained. Luckily, the bar was empty except for their die-hard regulars—since everyone else had come out the night before, Merlin had figured tonight would be slow. He took his break during a lull, wandering out behind the bar and staring back into the trees absently.   
  
A sharp bark from behind him made him turn. “Hey there, dog,” he said with a smile.   
  
The stray—some kind of mutt that looked like he had a little collie in him, and maybe some retriever too—loped up to him and pressed against his thigh.   
  
“Aw, you’re a good ol’ boy, ain’t you?” Bending down, he scratched the dog’s ears until the mutt rolled over, baring the soft, white fur of his belly. Merlin rubbed it obligingly as the dog wriggled happily in the dirt.   
  
“Must be nice to be you,” Merlin told him. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout what folks are thinkin’ all the time, or who wants to fuck you today. Or rude-ass vamps that’re way fuckin’ hotter than a dead thing’s got any damn right to be.”   
  
The dog whined, which Merlin chose to interpret as sympathy. “Thanks, boy. I’m just glad I can’t read  _your_  thoughts.”   
  
The dog sneezed, and rolled over. Jumping to his feet, he shoved his nose in Merlin’s face and licked him all over.   
  
Laughing, Merlin pushed him away. “Hey, knock it off! We ain’t even been properly introduced yet!”   
  
The dog barked, and wagged his tail. Merlin patted his head as he stood. “‘S all right, I forgive you, but only cuz you’re such a handsome devil.” He sighed regretfully. “Better get back, or Lance’ll skin me alive.”   
  
Business had picked up slightly during his break, and he found Gwen struggling to tend bar and wait tables by herself.   
  
“Where’s Lance?” he asked, relieving her of one of the two trays she carried.   
  
Gwen shot him an irritated look. “Fuck if I know, said he had to step out for a sec.”   
  
Merlin frowned. “I didn’t see him out there…you should’ve called me to help.”   
  
“He said to leave you be.” She didn’t sound pleased.   
  
“Why would he—?”   
  
At that moment, Lance came in from the back. “Y’all take care of the tables, I got the bar,” he said.   
  
“Way ahead of you,” Gwen said in a clipped tone, taking the tray back from Merlin and heading off.   
  
Merlin glanced over at Lance, chagrined. “Think she’s pissed that we abandoned her.”   
  
Lance shrugged. “She’ll get over it,” he said philosophically.   
  
“Hey, you got some—” Merlin reached out and brushed a chunk of dirt out of Lance’s hair.   
  
“Oh.” Lance flinched away, blushing. “Thanks.”   
  
Merlin grinned at him. “What were you doin’ out there? Diggin’ a tunnel?” he teased.   
  
Lance turned away. “Checkin’ my oil.”   
  
Merlin frowned slightly. “Thought you did that ‘neath the hood. Why would—”   
  
“Don’t you got tables to wait?” Lance interrupted.   
  
The hint of desperation in his voice was unnecessary—not like folks'd riot if Merlin was a mite slow tonight. He rolled his eyes—“Yes,  _sir_ !”—and went to check on his customers.   
  
* * *   
  
Though sunset wasn’t till after 8, Merlin caught himself glancing out the window every couple minutes. Would Arthur come tonight? He’d said he wanted to see Merlin again…well, okay, maybe not in those words  _exactly_ , but it had been implied, right? Or maybe he’d be working tonight. And just what work did a vampire do, besides showing up like some kind of undead wet dream and making everyone’s lives all confusing?   
  
Time seemed to slow down as the sun dipped lower in the sky, and Merlin was feeling pretty agitated by the time the sun set completely. When Morgana came in shortly after, he welcomed the distraction.   
  
"Hey, sis...whoa, you okay?"   
  
Morgana's pale face was flushed, and there were dark circles under her eyes to match his own. She looked at him blankly for a moment, before her face came back to life and she smiled. "’Course I am. Some reason I shouldn't be?"   
  
Merlin frowned as she moved over to the bar—there was definitely something off in her tone, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He briefly considered seeing if he could read her, but a wave of guilt washed over him. It was one thing to accidentally pick up on things that folks were broadcasting loud and clear; it was something else altogether to go snooping around in a person's head. Shaking his own head to clear out the temptation, he went over and sat next to her.   
  
"So, what brings my favorite sister here two nights in a row?" he asked brightly.   
  
She grinned over at him, but it was a shadow of her normal smile. "Just waitin' for my ride."   
  
At that moment, Gwen came over, and he decided not to make the obvious pick-up joke.   
  
"Hey, Morgana," Gwen managed without stammering. "What'll it be tonight?"   
  
"Hmm? Oh, double whiskey. Thanks, Gwen."   
  
And, okay, something was definitely off if Morgana was too distracted to flirt. Merlin grinned to himself—he felt bad for Gwen, but truthfully, it was kinda funny. Looked like Morgana may have found herself someone interesting enough to keep her attention for a while. Tired, flushed, distracted...yup, sounded familiar. He wondered if she'd got herself a vampire too, but couldn't quite bring himself to ask.   
  
A car horn sounded from the parking lot, and Morgana jumped up. Shooting back the whiskey in one go, she slammed a bill down on the bar and darted out the door without a word, an almost feral grin on her face.   
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow and looked over at Gwen. "Wonder what  _that_  was all about?" he asked.   
  
Gwen scrubbed the bar more fiercely than it deserved. "Looks like he—she—whoever it is only has to honk, an' she goes off runnin'," she mumbled.   
  
Merlin sighed, and put his hand over hers. "Girl, we both know she ain't worth it."   
  
"Whatever." Gwen's tone was sharp, but the corner of her mouth twisted in a wry smile. "Thanks for the thought, though."   
  
The rest of the evening was deadly boring, and Merlin's heart sank with each minute that went by without any sign of Arthur. He knew he shouldn't be that upset—hell, he only met the guy...vampire, whatever, yesterday. But as he tallied up the register with a sigh, he couldn't help feeling pretty low.   
  
"No vampire tonight?" Lance's cheerfulness usually made Merlin smile, but tonight he scowled at his boss instead.   
  
"'S what it looks like," he said as neutrally as he could.   
  
Lance shot him an unreadable look. "Prob'ly for the best. Reckon it's safer not to get caught up in all that shit."   
  
"All  _what_  shit? He just came in last night for a drink, weren't his fault those V fiends decided he looked…"  _absolutely irresistible_  "...like an easy target."   
  
Lance sighed. "I jus’ think it's stupid to get mixed up in that supernatural stuff. Always comes back to bite you in the ass."   
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Lance. Just cuz you're afraid of anything that ain't human, don't mean the rest of us gotta be."   
  
Lance opened his mouth to respond, but Merlin turned away. "Need me to do anything else 'fore I take off?"   
  
"No." Lance sounded upset, but at the moment, Merlin couldn't be fucked to care. Whoever he chose to associate with was none of Lance's damn business.   
  
"Great. See y'all tomorrow." He waved goodbye to Lance and Gwen both and left to walk home, feeling thoroughly out of sorts.   
  
* * *   
  
Lance watched Merlin leave with a sigh. Behind him, Gwen huffed out a humorless laugh of her own.   
  
"What a pair we make, huh? Both moonin' after two of the most fucked-up people in Camelot." She caught his eye with a smile only slightly tinged by bitterness, and he managed a weak one in return.   
  
"Reckon that makes us pretty fucked up ourselves."   
  
Gwen ducked her head. "Like as not."   
  
They worked in silence for a minute, moving around each other in the small space behind the bar with the ease of familiarity. When everything was set for the next day, Lance held the door for Gwen as they left.   
  
"Your car still in the shop?" he asked as he locked up. "Want a ride?"   
  
"Aw, that's sweet, Lance, but you don't gotta trouble yourself—"   
  
Lance lived in a mobile home behind the bar; Gwen lived in a one-bedroom apartment on the other side of Camelot. Sure, it was only a fifteen minute walk to anywhere in town, but... "Don't like the idea of you walkin' alone at night when there's vamps out," he said.   
  
Gwen smiled at him. "All right, then."   
  
As they walked to the car, Lance threw his arm around her shoulders companionably. "Plus, all us fucked-up folks gotta stick together."   
  
Gwen laughed. "You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl."   
  
They drove most of the way in a comfortable silence. Lance got out to open the door for Gwen when they arrived at her place, impulsively pulling her into a hug before walking her to the porch.   
  
"Merlin's right, though," he said.   
  
"'Bout what?"   
  
"You can do better."   
  
Gwen blushed, but looked him in the eye. "Reckon you can, too."   
  
They held each other's gazes for a minute, before looking away at the same time. "Guess we better keep on lookin', then," Lance said awkwardly. "Just gotta keep the faith that the right ones for us are still out there."   
  
"Guess so." Gwen opened her door, looking back at him once she was inside. "'Night, Lance," she said quietly.   
  
"'Night, Gwen."   
  
* * *   
  
Merlin was halfway home when they attacked.   
  
He collapsed instantly, his skull reverberating with the force of the first blow—the bat crashed across his shoulders, knocking the wind out of him in an explosion of pain and sending him sprawling in the road as his attackers closed in.   
  
“Thought you could fuck with us and jes’ get away with it, huh?”   
  
Merlin struggled to roll over as the man from the night before loomed over him, lofting the bat…he barely managed to raise his arms in defense as the bat crashed down again. He screamed as the full force of the blow landed on his arms, and screamed again as the woman kicked him viciously in the ribs.   
  
“Hit ‘em again!” she shrieked. “We gonna  _kill_  you, muthafucker!”   
  
She kicked him again and again—he curled on his side, trying in vain to protect his head and stomach as she laughed. Then the man stepped forward, twirling the bat.   
  
“This is gonna  _hurt_ ,” he said happily, before slamming the bat down across Merlin’s lower back.   
  
Merlin’s vision whited out as his body convulsed in agony—and then he couldn’t feel it at all, couldn’t feel the pain, couldn’t feel his  _legs_ …   
  
“Please,” he gasped, terrified. “Don’t—!”   
  
“Listen to ‘im beg!” chortled the woman. “Bet you wish you’d kept outta what weren’t your fuckin’ business now, huh?”   
  
Her foot connected with his head, and Merlin’s vision swam. He felt himself slipping away, only dimly aware when the woman’s laughter turned to screams. He tried to raise his head to see what was happening, but his arms collapsed…   
  
Then the screaming stopped, and all he could hear was his own ragged breathing as the world faded to black.   
  
* * *   
  
_Merlin._   
  
He hurt all over.   
  
Except his legs.   
  
He couldn’t feel them at all.   
  
“Merlin!”   
  
Why was there yelling? He wanted to sleep.   
  
“Dammit, Merlin, stay with me!”   
  
Someone was holding him tightly—it  _hurt._  He moaned, and then something warm and wet and  _thick_  was dripping into his mouth…   
  
He gagged, coughed, and spat it out. “Wh—?”   
  
“Drink, dammit!”   
  
He struggled to open his eyes—when his lids finally fluttered open, he found himself staring up into the deep blue of Arthur’s eyes. Arthur’s face was distorted with fear; his wrist hovered over Merlin’s mouth, blood spilling from a deep gash, spattering across Merlin’s face. Merlin shut his mouth tightly, trying to push Arthur’s wrist away with weak arms.   
  
The vampire made a frustrated noise. “Merlin, you’re  _dying._  Drink!”   
  
Merlin turned his face away. “Don’ wanna—,” he slurred.   
  
Arthur pressed his wrist against Merlin’s lips. “It won’t change you. I  _promise._ ”   
  
Arthur’s desperate eyes caught and held his.   
  
Merlin drank.   
  
* * *   
  
“W-what’s happening to me? A-am I—?” Merlin moaned, his voice nearly eclipsed in his own ears by the pounding of his heart.   
  
“You’re not changing,” Arthur murmured, his lips pressed into Merlin’s hair. “You’re healing.”   
  
The vampire cradled Merlin against his chest; Merlin’s fingers dug into Arthur’s arms as Arthur rocked him gently. Merlin’s entire body trembled—he felt as though he was humming with energy. Gasping, he buried his face in Arthur’s chest. Everything was too loud, too bright, too  _much_ —he wanted to crawl into Arthur’s solid, firm body, to escape from the deluge of images and sounds and smells…   
  
Twisting in Arthur’s arms, he writhed until his nose was pressed into Arthur’s neck. Fisting his hands in Arthur’s shirt, he pushed against Arthur until Arthur lay down on his side, pulling Merlin in tight against him and letting Merlin twine their legs together.   
  
“Hurts,” Merlin whimpered. But it didn’t—it  _burned_ , and tingled, and pulsed through him like fire, but it didn’t  _hurt._   
  
“I know, I know,” Arthur murmured into his hair. “It’s almost over. I’ve got you. It’s almost over.”   
  
Arthur’s arms surrounded him like iron bands, holding him close as the world shimmered and sparkled, before shattering completely and leaving him in darkness.   
  
* * *   
  
When Merlin came to again, he was lying on his back on a hard, flat surface. He opened his eyes slowly, carefully, and blinked in confusion. He was…on his porch?   
  
Shaking his head slightly, he tried to sit up—his vision swam, but a firm hand at his back caught him before he could fall back down.   
  
“Careful,” came Arthur’s voice, low and soft in his ear.   
  
Merlin shivered at the touch—his skin still felt tingly, his senses too sharp. “What-what happened? Why do I feel so—?”   
  
Arthur shifted behind him, taking his hand off Merlin’s back and sitting next to him, side by side but facing the opposite direction. Merlin felt himself flushing as Arthur’s blue eyes searched his face. “I…don’t know.”   
  
Merlin looked at him, feeling a tide of panic starting to rise inside him. “What? How can you not know?”   
  
Arthur bit his lip, a gesture so human, so alive, that Merlin had the sudden urge to lean in and…   
  
“I mean…I have an idea, but…but this isn’t how we usually do it.” Arthur sounded hesitant, and Merlin felt alarms go off inside his head.   
  
“‘Usually do it?’ Usually do  _what_ ? Share…share blood with humans?” he asked sharply.   
  
Arthur nodded unhappily, not looking at him.   
  
Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “You best tell me  _exactly_  what that means.”   
  
Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “We—vampires—can...” He stopped.   
  
Merlin made an impatient noise. “Come on, spit it out!”   
  
Arthur frowned slightly, still not looking at him. “We can, like you said, share our blood with humans. Usually we only give them a little—a mouthful at most. That’s enough to make them…um…”   
  
“High?” Merlin hazarded. His stomach sank. “Shit, like on V? But I thought y’all hated V fiends—”   
  
“We do,” Arthur interrupted quickly. “V fiends are reckless. Uncontrolled. Undisciplined. However, they only take a drop at a time—just enough for a temporary high. When we choose to share with our—with other humans, the effects are more...permanent.”   
  
“What kind of effects? And whatta you mean, 'permanent'?” Merlin was getting a very bad feeling about this.   
  
Arthur glanced at him. “I don’t want to scare you,” he said quietly.   
  
Merlin stared at him in disbelief. “Are you fuckin’  _kiddin'_  me? I was just beat near to death by V fiends for saving the ass of a vampire who I only just met, an' then I fuckin’  _drank_  his  _blood_ ; maybe even enough of it to have fuckin' 'permanent effects'. I’m so way beyond fuckin’  _scared,_  I’d need a GPS to even get  _close_  to findin' it again!”   
  
Arthur looked at him soberly. “I can't tell you how sorry I am that you got hurt because of me.”   
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, apology accepted, whatever. Can we get back to the ‘not knowin’ what’s gonna happen to me’ part?”   
  
Arthur looked away again. “Given the severity of your injuries, you drank…more than any human I’ve ever seen. Or heard of. I’ll have to check with others to see what that will mean, for both of us.”   
  
“Both of us?”   
  
Arthur turned back to him, looking directly into his eyes. “Sharing blood is…an intimate experience. It affects us as well. Not in the same way as it affects you, but…significantly, nonetheless.”   
  
“Intimate.” Merlin swallowed. Arthur’s face was close to his,  _too_  close. His mouth felt dry. Swallowing awkwardly, he tried to force out a smile. “So, um…was it good for you?”   
  
Arthur looked at him seriously. “It was…very moving. I felt the life flowing into you, leaving my veins and entering your body.”   
  
Merlin felt his face grow hot. “Oh,” he said weakly.   
  
Arthur moved closer, ducking his head and looking up at Merlin from under his eyelashes. “I held you in my arms,” he said quietly. “I felt you tremble against me as you drank. I cradled your body as it mended itself.” He reached out and placed a careful hand on Merlin’s stomach. Merlin gasped in shock—his body felt as though an electrical charge was running through it, hypersensitive to Arthur’s touch.   
  
Then Arthur moved his hand in a slow circle, and suddenly Merlin was harder than he’d ever been before in his entire life. Breath coming in shallow gasps, he leaned forward and rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder as Arthur caressed his stomach.   
  
Arthur rubbed his cheek into Merlin’s hair. “I felt like I could never let you go,” he said as Merlin shivered. “Like I would destroy anyone who tried to take you from me.”   
  
Merlin’s breath caught as Arthur’s words penetrated the fog of arousal clouding his thoughts. “Um. That’s—that’s—”   
  
“A lot to take in,” Arthur stated. His hand stopped moving and withdrew. Merlin felt the loss like a knife, and had to force himself from reaching out and catching Arthur’s hand in his own.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Arthur said again. “I know you never asked for this. But you were dying.”   
  
Merlin let out a shaky breath, trying to stay in control. “Yeah. Um. Glad you didn’t let me die. So.” He swallowed again. “Um. So what’s it been like when you’ve done this before?”   
  
“I haven’t.”   
  
Merlin looked at him. “Never?”   
  
Arthur shook his head. “No.”   
  
Merlin felt hysterical laughter threaten to burst out of him. “So I’m your first?”   
  
“Yes.” Arthur still sounded serious, and Merlin’s amusement died.   
  
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Um. So you’ve never done this with a human before, an' you’ve never seen a human drink as much as I did. So you’re gonna check with, I dunno, your vampire mentors, or somethin', an' let me know what they say?”   
  
Arthur nodded, and winced.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Just…telling the others.”   
  
“What about it?”   
  
“It won’t be pleasant.” He frowned.   
  
Merlin’s curiosity raised its head. “Really? Why's that?”   
  
Arthur grimaced. “I’m a bit…notorious…for never having shared with a human before.”   
  
Merlin frowned in confusion. “It's weird that you ain’t done it ‘til now?”   
  
Arthur nodded. “Yes. Most vampires share with multiple humans. It can be…useful. But I’ve never found someone that I wanted to…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter.”   
  
“Wait a sec. Whatta you mean, ‘useful’?” Merlin asked suspiciously.   
  
Arthur looked at him, face unnaturally still. Merlin felt a shiver run down his spine.   
  
“I’d rather not elaborate until I’ve had a chance to confirm,” Arthur said flatly.   
  
“O-okay.” Something about Arthur’s expression kept Merlin from wanting to push any further…for tonight, at least.   
  
“How do you feel?” Arthur asked after an awkward pause.   
  
Merlin shrugged. “Dunno. Kinda tingly.”   
  
“Like things are too vivid? Too loud, too bright?”   
  
Merlin nodded. “Yeah.”   
  
Arthur looked relieved. “That, I’ve seen. Your senses will be sharper. It might be a bit awkward, at first, until you get used to it.”   
  
Merlin shrugged again. “It’s weird for sure, dunno how awkward it’ll be, though.”   
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be perceiving things that most people don’t. It’s bound to be a little off-putting.”   
  
Merlin laughed. “Perceivin’ things that most people don’t, huh? The stories I could tell you ‘bout that…”   
  
Arthur looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”   
  
_Shit._  “Um. Nothing. Never mind. Ignore me, I’m in shock, or somethin’.”   
  
“ _Mer_ lin.” Arthur’s voice was wary, but firm. “If there’s something I need to know about you, something that could be affected by my blood …”   
  
Merlin bit his lip.  _Shit, shit, shit._  This was probably a first-class Bad Idea…but he had God-only-knows how much vampire blood in him, and if there was even a chance that could do something to his ability…   
  
“I can read people’s minds,” he said in a rush. “Been able to for as long as I can remember. Dunno how or why, think it runs in the family or somethin'. My dad could too, but he died before I could really ask much about it…only people that know are my sister an' Gwen, Lance an' Elyan—they work at the bar, you met them—well, _saw_  them…did you even see them? Elyan was in the back, I dunno if you actually saw  _him,_  but he looks a lot like Gwen, except he’s a guy and wears more eyeliner—”   
  
“Merlin.” Arthur interrupted his babbling. Merlin’s mouth snapped shut, and he looked at Arthur nervously.   
  
“Can you do anything else?” Arthur’s voice was calm.   
  
“Um. Not that I know of? It sucks, actually—I can block it out most of the time, ‘cept when people are thinkin’ real loud, or pissed off, or horny…that’s the worst, ‘specially when it’s about me…”   
  
This time Arthur shut him up by putting a finger to his lips, and Merlin’s brain turned off. “Can you read me?”   
  
Eyes wide, Arthur’s finger still on his lips, Merlin just shook his head. Arthur removed his finger slowly, brushing his hand across Merlin’s thigh as if by accident.   
  
Merlin gulped. “That’s how I knew you were a vampire,” he said. “Well, before you asked for Tru Blood. An' did that thing with your voice.”   
  
“That thing with my voice?” Arthur sounded amused.   
  
“Yeah, where you made it all seductive?”   
  
“Where I did what?” Yup, definitely amused.   
  
Merlin blushed down to his toes. “Just fuckin’ forget it. I only mean…it’s nice, not bein’ able to hear you.” He realized that was true as he said it, and looked into Arthur’s eyes. “It’s like…this is what bein’  _normal_  must feel like.”   
  
Arthur held his gaze, then smiled slightly. “Merlin,” he drawled. “I’m getting the feeling that whatever else you may be, ‘normal’ is most definitely  _not_  on the list.”   
  
“Comin’ from a vampire, that’s rich,” Merlin mumbled, ducking his head to hide his grin. “Hey, speakin’ of rich, where’re you liv—stayin’?”   
  
Arthur glanced back over his shoulder. “My family’s old home. Pendragon Manor.”   
  
Merlin followed his gaze. “That old place? No one’s been there for years!”   
  
Arthur smirked. “Exactly.”   
  
Merlin grinned back. “So we’re practically neighbors, then. ‘S that how you knew where I live?”   
  
And Arthur…blushed.   
  
Merlin gawked. “Arthur Pendragon! Did you follow me home from work last night?”   
  
Arthur cleared his throat, another human gesture that made heat pool, low and dangerous, in Merlin’s belly.   
  
“I did,” he admitted shortly. “I was worried about those V fiends—and rightly so, I might add.”   
  
“Hmm.” Merlin didn’t give him the satisfaction. “Then where were you tonight, when they first started layin’ into me?”   
  
“Working. But I came as soon as I could.”   
  
“Uh huh. An' what does a hundred-plus-year-ol’ vampire do for work?”   
  
Arthur’s mouth twisted in displeasure. “I work for the Sh—the proprietor of _Vampelot._ ”   
  
Merlin boggled. “ _Vampelot_ ? The fangbanger club that just opened up down the highway? Holy  _shit_ , don’t tell me you’re, like, a vampire  _stripper_  or somethin’?”   
  
Arthur jerked back, offended. “No! I help him with…other matters. I don’t  _strip_ .” He spat the word out like it was poison.   
  
“Oh. Too bad.” Merlin smirked. Unable to resist the jab, he continued. “So, you’re like his…errand boy? Or do you prefer ‘office bitch’?”   
  
Arthur scowled at him. “Neither. I handle vampire business.”   
  
“Riiiight.” Merlin was still curious, but Arthur’s stony expression cut off his questions. “Sorry. No offense intended,” he said insincerely.   
  
Arthur shot him an unreadable look, before his face softened. “It’s getting late,” he said. “I should take my leave, and let you rest.”   
  
Merlin felt something twist in his stomach at the thought of Arthur leaving. “Sure. I guess.”   
  
Arthur rose smoothly, and extended his hand to Merlin. Despite himself, Merlin accepted Arthur’s help, only to find himself pulled to his feet and into Arthur’s arms in one swift movement. He gasped at the feel of Arthur’s body pressed against his, _extremely_  aware that their lips were only inches apart.   
  
“My apologies,” Arthur murmured. “Sometimes I forget my own strength.”   
  
“Bullshit,” Merlin breathed, and really, their lips were  _so close,_  how were they not…?   
  
Then Arthur released him. “You should go inside,” he said shortly.   
  
Merlin’s entire body felt the loss. “O-okay,” he said, confused and hurt.   
  
Arthur’s expression softened. “I can't come in unless you invite me,” he said gently. “And I don’t think either one of us is ready for that, tonight.” He paused. “But…may I call on you tomorrow, perhaps?”   
  
Merlin swallowed. “C-call on me?”   
  
It was Arthur’s turn to look confused. “Is that term no longer used? I meant, may I come by tomorrow, when you are here, to…talk with you?”   
  
Merlin ducked his head and grinned. “Oh. I’m off work tomorrow, so…yeah. Okay.” He raised his eyes and looked at Arthur. “We usually just say ‘hang out’.”   
  
Arthur nodded seriously. “Very well. Then we shall ‘hang out’ tomorrow, after sunset.”   
  
Merlin knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t be fucked to care. “Cool.”   
  
Somehow, he managed to tear his gaze away from Arthur and unlock the door. He didn’t meet Arthur’s eyes again until he was standing just inside the threshold. “Goodnight, Arthur.”   
  
Arthur’s blue eyes met his. “Goodnight, Merlin.”   
  
Then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Morgana woke lazily, the cool air of the morning whispering deliciously across her naked skin. Fingertips gently brushed over her nipples as she raised her arms over her head, arching her back and feeling every part of her body sing as she stretched. 

Her eyes still closed, she felt a mouth join the fingertips, and made a pleased noise. One hand made its way lower, stroking and caressing her tenderly. She opened her legs as the hand dipped below her naval, and hummed in approval as the clever fingers explored her gently.

Her skin still tingled from the night before, heightening the sensation as the mouth followed the path of the fingers down her body. When the warm, wet tongue darted between her legs, she felt her blood heat, swirling in her veins as arousal combined with the lingering effects of the V that still coursed through her system.

Reaching down, she buried her fingers in soft hair. The tongue stroked her tenderly, drawing her pleasure out slowly as she writhed against the pillows.

After a few moments, however, she pulled the hair sharply; with a soft gasp, the mouth moved away.

"More," she purred, opening her eyes at last and looking up from beneath her dark eyelashes.

Edwin looked down at her, the expression of rapture on his face almost enough to chase away the remains of her buzz with irritation. She frowned slightly, and he nearly fell over himself in his haste to get out of bed and retrieve the vial of V from the dresser.

When he returned, she allowed him to place a drop on her tongue with his finger, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure when the drug hit her bloodstream almost immediately.

Edwin took another drop as well, moaning as the drug took effect. He practically collapsed down on top of her, burying his face in her neck and groaning into her skin, thrusting awkwardly against her thigh. Some part of her was annoyed—he was so needy, so desperate for her—but her annoyance faded as her body responded to the V. Fire blossomed under her skin everywhere he touched; her arousal rose like a wave, nearly cresting again and again as he pushed between her legs helplessly. Moaning, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her nails into his back; he cried out, and thrust faster.

When her vision began to fade, she laughed—she felt as though she was leaving her body, watching Edwin fuck her as though she was someone else entirely. 

How absolutely, terrifyingly _boring._

Hovering in the air, she watched the bodies rutting on the bed with detached disinterest, before flickering movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Smiling, she turned away from the banal scene before her and followed the swirling shapes that danced on the edge of her perception. Then the shapes surged forward, surrounding her with color and bathing her in light as she surrendered to them completely.

Images flashed before her eyes. A dog. Empty bottles. Blood. A woman laughing. A dark road at night. 

The images made no sense, yet she thrilled to see them. She felt as though she would burst as they poured out of her, racing across of her line of sight before disappearing into nothingness.

A red ball. A small child crying. A crow. A car door slamming.

Then more, too much to process, to comprehend. Somewhere in the distance, she felt her heart beat wildly as the images sped up, slamming into her and shaking her down to her core.

The force of her orgasm brought her screaming back into her body; a moment later, Edwin collapsed on top of her, panting wetly into her chest.

She lay there, stunned, slowly remembering how to breathe. The sensations of her body came flooding back; the aftershocks of pleasure pulsing deep inside her, the feel of sweat tricking down her forehead, the oppressive weight of Edwin on top of her.

She pushed at him, and he rolled off her with a groan. He reached for her, but she avoided his grasp. He'd reached for her the first time, too, but she'd pushed him away—he hadn't even tried the night before, but apparently he'd forgotten himself in the light of the morning.

Head still spinning with V, she looked down at him with vague distaste. Even more than half-asleep, he was careful to turn his face to the side, hiding the horrific scars from the fire that had destroyed his parent's trailer when he was a baby. Struck by a sudden, morbid fascination, Morgana reached out and traced the lines of the undamaged side of his face. He sighed into the touch, turning his face slightly to capture the tips of her fingers in his mouth.

She let him suck them for a moment, the sensation intensified by the V and kindling a small flame in the pit of her stomach. The scars weren't what had kept her away from him before—well, not the only thing, anyway. He'd always struck her as… _creepy,_ to be honest, especially after he'd spent their entire senior year staring at her from the back of homeroom.

But there had been a party two nights ago, and she'd been well on her way to drunk by the time he'd pulled her aside and promised her the best night of her life. She'd accepted the first drop from him then, and the rest of the night had passed in a haze of heat and pleasure.

And images. She'd seen the images for the first time that night, and had known at once that she would do anything, absolutely _anything,_ to see them again.

She withdrew her fingers from his mouth and ignored his moan of protest. He was still too far gone to speak as she stumbled across the floor, retrieving her clothes. She had to be at work in four hours; that should be enough time to come down off the V. She let herself out without looking back.

The sun was already climbing into the sky as she walked slowly down the street. She came to a four-way stop and looked up blearily.

A red ball rolled across the ground in front of her and out into the street. A shriek from behind her made her wince—the child who'd been playing with the ball burst into tears as her mother prevented her from running into the street after her toy.

Morgana blinked in confusion—something about this was familiar, but she didn't know what—

With an offended squawk, a huge black crow exploded out of a nearby tree and swooped down at a car that was parked by the curb. The owner of the car dove into the front seat, slamming the door behind him.

Morgana felt a chill run down her spine as she struggled to overcome her sense of deja vu. Then the realization hit her, and she was vomiting into the dirt before the car had even turned the corner.

* * *

Elyan groaned when his cell phone rang. He’d only fallen asleep at dawn; glancing at his clock, he saw it was just before 10.

“What you want, muthafucker?” he mumbled irritably into the mouthpiece.

“I need _more_ , man. That last shit you got was _intense_ , fuckin’ forgot my own _name._ And the chick I had with me—she was _totally_ into it. I think she’s the one, man, I gotta keep her happy, you know? So I need more, the same shit as before, it’s strong, man, so damn _strong_ —”

Elyan winced and held the phone away from his ear, muting the stream of words. Edwin’s voice continued, tinny and distorted over the airwaves.

“Dude, you need to chill the fuck out,” Elyan snapped. “Glad you liked it. New stuff. Went fast, though, I’m all out.”

“Fuck, man, I _need—_ ”

“I’ll check with my supplier tonight. Soon as I get more, I’ll call you.” He hung up over Edwin’s protests and sank back down into his pillows with a sigh. 

Fuck.

He did _not_ want to deal with this shit anymore. It was different when he’d first started—vamps who were having trouble adjusting financially to their new situation in the public eye were more than happy to work something out with him. Sure, the product had always varied in quality, but it had been…safer. The whole setup had suited him just fine—he didn’t plan on sticking around this podunk shithole town forever, and Camelot wasn’t exactly bursting with opportunities to make extra cash.

Then, about a year back, the Drug Enforcement Administration got involved, and everything went to shit. Vamps’d gotten scared—they were trying go mainstream, and getting humans hooked on their blood wasn’t exactly a step in the right direction. Elyan had been forced to up his own game, to keep them willing to run the risk. Most of the time the vamps had been happy with just the sex, but some of them had wanted to bite him, too. Worst part was, the biters’ blood was strongest. He’d finally had enough and closed up shop three months after V had been added to the DEA’s list of controlled substances.

Then _Vampelot_ had opened up, and _he’d_ come to town to run it.

Elyan had never even been to _Vampelot._ Near as he could figure, one of his old contacts must have said something, because he’d had a visitor one week ago. 

Elyan’s hand reached between his legs unconsciously, fingertips running gingerly over the bite mark on his inner thigh that had been kept fresh since that night. He winced with the memory—he’d been fuckin’ _stupid,_ no other word for it. Damn vamp had shown up looking like sex on legs, and Elyan had invited him in before he remembered what a fuckin’ bad idea that was. The vamp had smirked at him from behind the pornstar hair falling across his eyes, and told Elyan he should “seriously consider” getting back into the business. The vamp had given him a vial of what turned out to be the strongest shit Elyan had ever tried, and laughed when he’d collapsed to the floor, reeling. Still laughing, the vamp had fucked him into the rug as he rode the wave. Before he left, he’d placed his mark on Elyan’s thigh, and told Elyan he expected the V to be gone when he returned in two days.

Elyan was half-hard just thinking about it. Damn vamp was fuckin’ _dangerous_ —he’d made it clear that he’d have no problem with killing Elyan and everyone he loved if Elyan even _considered_ refusing—but the next two times he’d come back, he’d fucked Elyan ‘til Elyan thought he’d die from it.

His cock was fully hard, anticipating what would happen as soon as he called. But he couldn’t call just yet; the vamps would all be…sleeping, or whatever it was called when the undead did it. Sighing, Elyan rolled over and restlessly stroked himself to completion before falling back asleep. 

* * *

The doorbell rang just after sundown. Merlin had definitely _not_ been waiting in the living room, staring out the window as the sky grew dark. He also did not jump up involuntarily and rush to the door before he knew what he was doing.

Arthur waited on the porch, dressed in a black button down shirt and dark blue jeans that looked like they'd been made especially for him. He looked up at Merlin from below his eyelashes, a small smile playing across his lips. "May I come in?"

Merlin nearly choked. "Y-yes. Please. Come in." He stumbled back as Arthur crossed the threshold. The vampire didn't say a word, just held his gaze as he slowly walked forward. Merlin fell back unthinkingly, gasping as his back hit the wall behind him.

Arthur moved forward until there was barely an inch between them. Merlin's breath sounded harsh in his own ears as Arthur ducked his head and pressed his nose into Merlin's neck.

With a soft cry, Merlin arched up against him, burying his hands in Arthur's hair as his head fell back against the wall. Arthur's arms wrapped around Merlin's waist and lifted him off the ground; moaning, Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur's hips as the vampire pressed him up and into the wall. Then Arthur was kissing his neck, hot and wet and warm, nipping gently at his skin before running his tongue over the marks.

Merlin thrust helplessly against Arthur, grinding his erection against Arthur's own. "F- _fuck_!"

Arthur growled, and thrust against him roughly. "Yes," he hissed, before spinning Merlin around, off the wall. The room tilted dangerously, and then they were upstairs in Merlin's room, and Arthur was pressing him down into the bed, pinning Merlin's wrists over his head and plundering Merlin's mouth with his tongue. Arthur's other hand tore savagely at Merlin's jeans, wrenching them down as Merlin raised his hips. The rough material of Arthur's jeans rubbed against Merlin's aching cock as Arthur pressed against him, and he cried out as pain cut through the pleasure of Arthur's kisses. 

Arthur swallowed his cry before unzipping his own jeans. The tip of his bare cock dragged over Merlin's hole as Arthur hitched Merlin's leg up over his shoulder.

Freeing one of his hands, Merlin scrabbled blindly at his nightstand, somehow managing to find a tube of lube. Arthur made an impatient noise as he grabbed the tube from Merlin's hand and prepared himself.

He pushed into Merlin with a single, brutal thrust. Merlin cried out as pleasure and pain surged through him in equal measure. Arching back against the bed, he felt Arthur's lips press against his pulse point as the vampire smiled.

" _Why_ do you smell so good?" the vampire moaned, before sinking his fangs into Merlin's neck.

* * *

Merlin woke up screaming as he came, thrusting into his mattress as sunlight streamed in through his bedroom window.

  



	4. Chapter 4

Merlin spent the day wandering through the woods that surrounded Camelot. The shade of the trees didn’t do much to cut the oppressive heat of the Louisiana summer, but trees didn’t _think_ , and that was really all he cared about.

He’d been afraid to go back to sleep after the dream. He’d had sex dreams before—honestly, who hadn’t?—but they’d never been that… _graphic_. His hand flew to his neck; he could almost feel the sharp pain that had pierced him when Arthur bit him in the dream, coupled with the strange mix of pleasure and pain of the vampire thrusting deep inside him.

He blushed, wondering if that’s what it would actually feel like, to be fucked by…well, honestly, to be fucked _at all._ The sum total of Merlin’s sexual experiences to date had consisted of the kiss that he and Elyan had shared as teenagers, and one awkward blow job in the back of the car of a man who’d stopped in _Lancelot’s_ on his way to N’Orleans. The blow job itself hadn’t been bad, at first, but as Merlin had become more and more aroused, he’d been completely unable to tune out the thoughts of the man sucking him off. Even with Merlin’s dick in his mouth, the only thing the man had been able to think about was how good Merlin would feel impaled on his cock. Merlin had no intention of being fucked for the first time by a complete stranger, and when the man had wondered how Merlin would look with the man’s hands around his neck, he’d bolted from the car without a word.

That experience had pretty much turned Merlin off of having sex with people whose thoughts he could read, which had meant everyone.

Until now.

And maybe that was it. Maybe the only reason he’d felt drawn to Arthur at first was that he couldn’t read Arthur’s thoughts. Now, of course, there was the whole blood thing too, but that was magic or some shit, totally _not_ his fault.

His mind drifted back to the dream, to the heady mix of fear and _want_ he’d felt when Arthur had touched him.

Was that why fangbangers did it? Did they feel like that every time they let a vampire fuck them? Would it be like that with any vampire?

Or was it just like that with Arthur?

Arthur, who’d almost gotten him killed, and then saved his life. Who was polite and formal one minute, and sensual and overwhelming the next. Whose presence made Merlin feel both completely safe and absolutely terrified at the same time.

He shut his eyes; his senses were still in overdrive, and sight was the worst. Everything was too sharp, too bright, too clear. But even with his eyes closed, he could still see the look in Arthur’s eyes.

 _I felt like I could never let you go…Like I would destroy anyone who tried to take you from me._

He shuddered, a thrill coursing through him. He _wanted_ Arthur, more than he’d ever wanted anyone—or any _thing_ —in his entire life. He wanted Arthur’s arms around him, Arthur’s mouth on his, Arthur’s body pressed against him…

His eyes flew open. Breathing hard, he bit down on his lip—the pain cut through his thoughts, grounding him.

Fuck. This was insane. This was abso-fuckin’-lutely _insane._ He wasn’t some lovesick schoolgirl, waiting for a sparkly vampire to stalk her into true love; he was a freak who waited tables, would never go to college, and could barely pay his own bills. Shit like this didn’t _happen_ to people like him.

His breathing calmed. It had to be the blood. And hormones. Or something. He wasn’t going to lose his mind over this. He wasn’t going to forget who he was, or _what_ he was. He’d see Arthur tonight, keep his distance, hear what the other vamps had to say about the blood thing, and then take it from there.

* * *

Arthur arrived half an hour after sundown. Merlin had been stupidly terrified that he’d show up in the same outfit he’d worn in Merlin’s dream, because that would have been both too hot to handle and freaky as shit.

He didn’t, but the light blue shirt he wore instead only served to highlight the depths of his eyes.

 _Dammit._

Merlin looked at him uncertainly from the doorway. “Um. Do you wanna come—?”

“No!” The sharpness of his tone took Merlin aback, and he flinched. Arthur noticed, and his voice softened. “I just thought that since it’s such a lovely night, perhaps we could take a walk?”

“Oh.” Merlin wasn’t sure what made him more nervous—the thought of being alone with Arthur in his house, or the thought of being alone with him in the night outside. “O-okay.”

He locked the door, jumping slightly when Arthur’s hand found the small of his back, guiding him down off the porch.

“W-where do you wanna go?” he asked, trying to ignore the small blaze that had kindled in the pit of his stomach.

“Anywhere you like,” Arthur said evenly. “But preferably somewhere where we won’t be interrupted.”

Merlin’s breath hitched. “Um. How ‘bout the cemetery? I go there sometimes when I wanna be alone, and I never see anyone there ‘cept on holidays like Veteran’s Day an' Memorial Day…”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “The dead don’t think?”

Merlin ducked his head. “Somethin’ like that.”

Arthur rubbed a slow circle on Merlin’s back. “Then by all means, lead on.”

Blushing furiously, but somehow unable to pull away, Merlin started off towards the cemetery. The moon was rising in the sky—not full, but not far from it either. To Merlin’s sharpened sight, everything looked like it would on a cloudy afternoon, and not the dark night he knew was rapidly closing in on the sleepy town.

Arthur followed close behind him, his hand on Merlin’s back the entire way. As they walked in silence, Arthur’s hand slowly moved lower, until his fingers came to rest, unmistakably, on Merlin’s ass. Merlin jerked with surprise, tripping over his own feet and nearly falling flat on his face—

And then he was in Arthur’s arms, looking up into the vampire’s amused eyes.

“Graceful,” Arthur commented, even as one hand slipped down between Merlin’s legs. Merlin gasped as Arthur’s fingers gently caressed him once, before withdrawing abruptly.

Setting Merlin on his feet, Arthur released him. “We should continue. This way, correct?”

Then the fuckin’ bastard was walking off through the trees, leaving Merlin cursing as he struggled to adjust his jeans.

* * *

They made it to the cemetery without further incident, with Arthur careful to maintain what must have been considered a gentlemanly distance when he was alive. Merlin’s irritation hadn’t faded in the slightest, but he’d been unable to think of a way to call Arthur out for groping him in a way that wouldn’t just end up turning him on even more.

They stopped in front of a tombstone shaped like a cross. Merlin glanced over at Arthur, curiosity momentarily outweighing annoyance. “Not freaked out by crucifixes, huh?”

Arthur chuckled. “Not at all. Or garlic. Made it much easier to pass for human, back when we had to—no one ever suspected that an evening Mass attendee was one of the undead.”

“The fangs are kind of a giveaway, though,” Merlin pointed out.

Arthur smiled over at him. “What fangs?” he asked innocently.

Merlin gaped. The elongated incisors were nowhere to be seen. When Arthur had first appeared in _Lancelot’s_ , and then later on Merlin’s porch, he hadn’t seen them either, but he’d figured that was just Arthur being careful with his smile. Now, however, with Arthur grinning over at him broadly, he realized they weren’t there at all.

“They’re retractable,” Arthur explained, his grin widening at Merlin’s confusion. “Also useful for passing as human.”

“I bet.” Merlin still couldn’t quite believe it, and leaned in for a closer look. “So you can control when they—?”

“For the most part.”

“Huh. That’s cool.”

Arthur caught his gaze, and fuck, Merlin was too close again.

“It has its advantages,” Arthur said smugly.

The flashback to his dream hit Merlin like a train—Arthur’s lips on his, Arthur’s tongue in his mouth—and he jerked away with a shiver. Arthur shot him a knowing glance, and Merlin _really_ needed to come up with a stronger word than ‘bastard.’

“So. What’d the other vamps say?” he asked, trying desperately to remind himself why he thought seeing Arthur again, much less coming out here, had been a good idea in the first place.

Arthur’s smile faded, and he shifted uncomfortably. “They were…relatively reassuring.”

Merlin glared at him. “The hell does that mean?”

Arthur crossed his arms, almost defensively. “They confirmed that your senses will most likely remain sharper than those of other humans for the rest of your life, but that you’ll grow accustomed to it.”

Huh. That didn’t sound so bad. But there had to be a catch; there was always a catch. Merlin looked at Arthur suspiciously. “And?” he pressed.

Arthur hesitated. “You may also find that your…libido…has increased significantly.”

Merlin almost collapsed as a wave of relief rushed over him. That explained the dream, then. It _was_ the blood. He forced himself to focus back on Arthur, ignoring the inexplicable twinge of disappointment that had accompanied the relief.

“So, is that it? I won’t, I dunno, turn into a bat or a pumpkin or somethin’?”

Arthur’s brow creased in confusion. “A pumpkin? No. But—” He paused, and looked away.

Merlin’s relief vanished. “What?” A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. "You didn't tell them about my...ability, did you?"

"No." Arthur's reply was unhesitating. Merlin relaxed slightly, but tensed again when Arthur closed his eyes, as if summoning his strength. “However, there is something else,” the vampire admitted.

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh.”

Arthur bit his lip. “Do you remember when I said that most vampires shared blood with humans because it was useful?”

“‘Course I do, I asked what you meant an' you ignored me.” Merlin felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Shit,” Arthur swore quietly. He looked up at Merlin with a pained expression. “There’s really no good way to say this…it’s useful because once we share our blood with a human, it’s much easier to feed on them.”

Merlin snorted. “Right. Kind of a I’ll-scratch-your-back-if-you-scratch-mine deal?”

Arthur looked at him, completely serious. “No.”

Merlin’s mouth went dry. “Oh.” He laughed nervously. "Um. So you like, turn them into supercharged V fiends, or somethin’?"

Expression still serious, Arthur took a step towards him. "Not quite."

Merlin stepped back. "Well, it didn't work on me!" he said, his voice rising. "Really, that's close enough, I got no urge to—"

Arthur closed the distance between them without another word, pressing Merlin back against the side of the small mausoleum behind him. Immediately, Merlin flashed back again—when Arthur dipped his head, Merlin tipped his chin up automatically.

But the vampire didn’t touch his neck.

Instead, Arthur’s lips brushed across his ear. “You’re not afraid.”

“What the fuck are you—” Merlin gasped.

With a growl, Arthur shoved his thigh in between Merlin’s legs and up against his groin, making Merlin cry out. Before Merlin could register what was happening, Arthur had grabbed both his wrists and was pinning them over his head, pressing them against the rough stone with one hand.

“W-wait!” Merlin choked out, pulling against the vampire’s unyielding grip. “I d-don’t—”

Arthur’s free hand caught him under the chin, turning his face to the side and leaving his neck completely exposed.

“No! Stop!” Merlin began to struggle in earnest, but Arthur didn’t budge. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Arthur pull back slightly, opening his mouth—

“No! Please, God, don’t! _Please_!” Merlin screamed in terror, fighting in vain against Arthur’s strength as the vampire slowly dragged his fangs across Merlin’s neck. “No, no, no,” he sobbed as Arthur nipped at his ear.

“ _Now_ you’re afraid,” Arthur growled.

“Please, _don’t_ ,” Merlin begged, tears streaming down his face.

And then he was free; Arthur was gone, and Merlin pitched forward with a cry—

—right into Arthur’s arms.

“Shh. It’s okay, you’re fine. I’ve got you.” Arthur pulled Merlin into his chest.

“W-what the _fuck_?” Merlin sobbed as Arthur held him. He wanted to scream at Arthur, to hit him, to tell him to get the fuck away—but his hands were tangled in Arthur’s shirt, and he couldn’t lift his face from Arthur’s shoulder…

“You’re not afraid any more,” Arthur said softly.

“The _fuck_ I’m not! I’m _terrified_ and p-pissed off and—”

“You’re angry, but you’re not afraid,” Arthur repeated. “You know you should be, but you’re not.”

“What, are you a fuckin’ mind-reader too, now?” Merlin spat as Arthur pulled back slightly.

“No. But I can read _you_ ,” he said quietly, before leaning forward and brushing his lips against Merlin’s.

It wasn’t a real kiss—just the slightest of touches—but Merlin froze anyway as Arthur’s lips ghosted over his. His eyelids fluttered shut and his hands clenched convulsively in Arthur’s shirt as the vampire’s lips traced the line of his jaw.

“And now, you’re aroused,” he whispered into Merlin’s neck.

“Bastard,” Merlin said weakly as the fire in his stomach, extinguished by fear, flared up again. “Wh-what are you _doing_ to me?”

“Proving my point.” Arthur’s tone was flat, and he let go of Merlin completely. Merlin fell to his knees at Arthur’s feet, reeling.

Arthur stared down at him, a strange look on his face. “For the rest of your life, I’ll know where you are,” he said in a strained voice.

“W-what?” Merlin was having trouble processing speech, his mind still consumed with the turmoil in his body.

“No matter where in the world you go, I’ll know where you are, and I’ll be able to come for you.”

Merlin felt himself start to panic as Arthur’s words registered. “ _Fuck._ ”

“If you’re in trouble, I’ll know,” Arthur continued, his voice tight. “Any time you’re frightened, or in pain, or upset, I’ll feel it.”

Merlin’s vision swam. This absolutely _could not_ be happening. “L-like now?” he whispered, tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

“Yes,” Arthur said in a choked whisper. “Like now.”

And then he was pulling Merlin up and into his arms again. Arthur’s hand cupped the back of Merlin’s head, pushing his face into Arthur’s neck. Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist, clinging to him desperately.

“This is _so_ fucked up,” he moaned as Arthur held him.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered. “Merlin, I’m so, so sorry.”

Merlin took a deep, shaky breath. “You shoulda just let me die.”

Arthur’s arms tightened around him. “No!” He pulled back and pressed his forehead to Merlin’s. “I couldn’t,” he said, voice filled with pain. “I saw you lying there, and I—” He stopped and pulled back slightly. “I didn’t think it would be like this.”

“S-so this ain’t n-normal?” Merlin sniffed, hiding his face in Arthur's shoulder to avoid meeting his eyes.

He felt Arthur shake his head. “No. You drank so much…they—the others—said our bond will be stronger than…than it should be.”

“‘Should be’?”

Arthur’s arms tightened around him again. “Once we’ve shared blood with a human we…bond with them. We can tell if they’re hurt or frightened,” Arthur said softly. “But we’re not compelled to do anything about it.”

Merlin froze. “What?” Lifting his head from Arthur’s shoulder, he searched the vampire’s face. “Why not?”

“Because,” Arthur said carefully, “we don’t bond out of some kind of emotional attachment. We only do it to keep our humans…quiescent.”

“Quiescent? What does that m—oh my God.” Merlin stiffened as the realization dawned. “You share blood with us to… _tame_ us? To keep us happy, like—like _pets?_ Or _livestock?_ You fuckin’ _farm_ us?”

“Yes,” Arthur said unhappily. “More or less. It’s so much easier to have three or four willing food sources nearby than to have to hunt—”

“Shit!” Merlin jerked out of Arthur’s arms. Stumbling back, he raised a hand as Arthur started forward. “Stay the fuck away from me!”

Arthur froze, his arms hanging limply at his sides. “It’s not all bad,” he said weakly. “We never take enough to damage them—well, _most_ of us are careful not to—and many of us ensure that the experience is enjoyable—”

“Fuck _that_!” Merlin snapped. “How the fuck do you expect me to believe that gettin' your _blood sucked_ can feel _good_?”

“Because the bond also tells us when you feel pleasure,” Arthur said quietly.

Merlin’s mouth fell open. “Shut. Up.”

Arthur looked over at him, as though he was about to continue.

Merlin shook his head. “No, really. Shut up.” Running his hands through his hair, he looked around wildly—anywhere but at Arthur. “Okay. Okay. I can handle this,” he murmured under his breath. “Fuck. Okay. Before we say anythin' else, let’s just get one thing straight.” He glared over at Arthur, who was watching him warily.

Taking a deep breath, Merlin planted his feet in the ground and faced Arthur head-on. “I don’t care how much of your fuckin’ blood I drank, or how strong our goddamn bond’s supposed to be. I am _not_ gonna be your edible fuck-toy!”

Arthur gaped at him. Then his eyes crinkled up at the corners, and he threw back his head and laughed.

Merlin glared. “Do I _sound_ like I’m jokin'?” he demanded, fighting the urge to ball his hands into fists and stamp his foot.

Arthur looked over at him, and—shit, he was _giggling._

“This is _insane_ ,” Merlin groaned. “My evil mind-controllin' vampire stalker is a fuckin’ _preschooler._ ” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I _hate_ my _life_!”

When he opened his eyes again, Arthur was right in front of him. Cursing, Merlin almost fell over. “Don’t _do_ that!”

Eyes twinkling, Arthur grinned at him. “My apologies.”

“Bite me,” Merlin snapped. Then he paled. “Wait—no, I didn’t mean—”

Arthur stopped grinning, and looked at him soberly. “I won’t.”

“Oh, right. You just spent all that time tellin’ me why all y’all share blood with humans, and you think I'm gonna believe—”

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur interrupted. “You never let me _finish_.”

“Oh.” True. Merlin crossed his arms. “Okay, go on then, finish up. As long as we’re clear about this whole fuck-toy business.”

Arthur’s mouth twitched, but his voice was reasonably steady when he replied, “Clear as crystal.” Leaning back against a tombstone, he fixed Merlin with an earnest gaze. “What I was going to say was that many of us make sure that the feeding process is pleasant for our humans—”

Merlin snorted, but Arthur ignored him.

“—and do look after their well-being, but it’s nowhere near an equal…partnership.”

“No shit,” Merlin muttered.

Arthur clenched his jaw, and continued. “The important thing, _Mer_ lin, is that I’ve. Never. Done. This. Before.”

“Oh. _Oh_.” Understanding blossomed in Merlin’s stomach.

Arthur pushed off the tombstone and walked over to him slowly, stopping an arm's length away.

“I’m not like them,” he said softly. “I’ve never been able to do that to someone, even if they said they wanted it. _I_ never wanted it.”

“But you just did it to _me._ ” And dammit, he was tearing up again. Forget fuck-toy; Arthur’s blood had obviously turned him into a _teenage girl._

Arthur reached out hesitantly, and took Merlin’s hands in his. “I know,” Arthur said. “I couldn’t let you die.”

“You said that already,” Merlin said weakly, staring at their hands.

“It bears repeating.” Arthur’s thumbs stroked over Merlin’s palms.

“Merlin,” he said after a pause. Merlin looked up to find Arthur regarding him earnestly. “I swear to you that I will never bite you without your freely-given consent,” he said quietly.

Merlin looked back at him, just as serious. “How can I trust you?” His stomach sank as the thought took shape in his mind. “I know you can mess with folks’ heads. You could be lyin' ‘bout…everythin'.” He pulled his hands out of Arthur’s.

Arthur looked confused. “Mess with folks’ heads?” he repeated. “Do you mean, glamour them?”

Merlin shrugged. “Sure, if that’s what it’s called.”

“Oh.” Arthur flashed him an embarrassed grin. “You don’t have to worry about that. It doesn’t work on you.”

“What? How do you kn—,” Merlin broke off and glared at him. “You _asshole!_ You already tried it on me, didn’t you?”

Arthur nodded sheepishly. “I did. But in my defense, it was when you were dying.”

“How does _that_ make it any better?”

Arthur looked earnest again, and Merlin had to stop finding that endearing, like _now._

“I needed you to drink, so I tried to glamour you into doing it,” Arthur explained. “You were already so far gone that it should have been easy, but…I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, ‘cept I _did_ drink,” Merlin pointed out, not convinced.

Arthur smirked at him. “Only after I yelled at you.”

“Oh.” Merlin thought that over. “So, I can’t read your mind, and you can’t mess with mine?”

Arthur nodded, almost shyly.

Not. Endearing. _Dammit._

Shaking his head slightly to clear it, Merlin continued. “And we’re bound by blood—which is totally worse for me than for you, by the way—”

“Actually,” Arthur interrupted, “It’s going to affect me strongly as well.”

Merlin scoffed. “I thought you said vamps weren’t actually compelled to take care of their humans. So how’s it gonna ‘affect you strongly as well’?”

Arthur ducked his head. “Maybe ‘compelled’ is too strong a word, but I definitely felt it last night, on your porch,” he said quietly. “I wanted to take you in my arms and hold you until you felt safe again. And when you responded to my touch—”

Merlin flushed, remembering.

“—I wanted to keep touching you, to make you…” Arthur stopped. “And just now, when I frightened you, I had to…make it better.”

“Oh.” Merlin was pretty sure his face was actually glowing in the dark. “I still got it worse, though,” he insisted.

Arthur offered him a half-smile. “Perhaps. But does it make you feel a little better, at least?”

Merlin gave him a small smile in return. “Maybe. A little.” He reached out and took Arthur’s hand. “But you’re still an asshole.”

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I suppose that’s fair,” he allowed.

“Mmm-hmm.” Merlin looked down at their hands, then back up into Arthur’s face. “So whatta we do now?”

“That depends. What do you want us to do?”

And, hello, loaded question. Merlin gulped. “Um. I dunno. Whatta _you_ wanna do?”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand, tugging on it gently. Merlin moved forward into the circle of Arthur’s arms, which wrapped around him loosely this time.

“I want to spend time with you,” Arthur said quietly. “I want to learn what makes you happy, and sad. I want—” He paused. “I want to get to know who you are.”

“Good luck with that,” Merlin said with a grin. “Don’t even think _I_ know who I am.”

Arthur smiled at him, his eyes full of promise, and hope. “We'll just have to find out together, then.”

So Merlin kissed him.

After all that, it was surprisingly easy; he just leaned forward and pressed his lips to Arthur’s, close-mouthed and chaste. When he pulled away, Arthur stared at him. He looked so shocked, in fact, that Merlin figured he’d better kiss him again, just to make sure he got the message.

Their second kiss was not chaste.

Neither was their third.

And it definitely wasn’t chaste when Merlin leaned back against a large tombstone, pulling Arthur into him and running his hands down and over Arthur’s utterly perfect back.

Arthur moaned into his mouth as their tongues pushed back and forth, and Merlin’s hands clenched convulsively around Arthur’s ass.

Then Arthur jerked back suddenly, turning his face sharply to the side…but not before Merlin caught the flash of white peeking out from between his lips.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching up to cup Arthur’s face. “Lemme see.”

Eyes downcast, Arthur let Merlin examine his mouth.

“That was…cuz of me?” Merlin asked, slightly awed.

Arthur nodded.

“Are they…how sharp are they? Will they cut me if I…?” He traced a thumb across Arthur’s bottom lip.

“No,” Arthur whispered hoarsely.

Slowly, carefully, Merlin ran his thumb across Arthur’s fangs. Arthur’s eyelids fluttered shut and he held perfectly still as Merlin traced the outline of each pointed tooth.

They were sharp, of course, but not like needles—more like a steak knife, he thought, something that _could_ cut you, but didn’t necessarily _have_ to. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning forward and gently catching Arthur’s top lip between his own teeth.

Arthur jerked back slightly, but Merlin wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. “Shh,” he whispered into Arthur’s mouth. “Let me.”

Arthur made a soft noise in the back of his throat as Merlin ran his tongue across Arthur’s fangs, exploring each one gingerly before pressing deeper into Arthur’s mouth. His tongue stroked Arthur’s once, and Arthur’s hands gripped his shoulders like a vise.

This time, when Arthur pulled away, Merlin didn’t protest.

Arthur looked at him, eyes dark with desire, fangs extended in his open mouth. “Need to…go slower,” he managed, even as his fingers gripped Merlin hard enough to bruise.

Eyes wide, Merlin nodded. “Okay.”

Arthur closed his mouth and his eyes, and tilted his head back. When he smiled at Merlin again, his fangs were gone.

“I should go,” he said quietly. Stepping back, he caught one of Merlin’s hands and raised it to his lips. “May I see you again tomorrow?” he asked into the back of Merlin’s hand.

Merlin nodded, cheeks burning. “I get off work at midnight.”

Arthur stepped back, releasing his hand. “Until then,” he promised, before vanishing.

Sinking back against the tombstone, Merlin took a deep, steadying breath. “Gotta get him to stop doin’ that,” he sighed, before heading back home.

  



	5. Chapter 5

Elyan drummed nervously on the table as the phone rang and rang. Maybe the bar was closed tonight—was it a vampire holiday? Did vampires _have_ holidays? Somehow, he couldn't exactly see them celebrating the birth of Christ, even though churches across the world were still struggling with the subject of the undead and God's grace...

The ringing stopped, and Elyan's heart rate increased.

"Thank you for calling _Vampelot_ ," drawled a bored voice, "the South's premier vampire bar, where our only mission is to fulfill your every hemosexual and/or bitesexual desire. This is Morgause."

"Um. It's Elyan."

"Got a last name there, breather?" Disdain dripped from every syllable, and Elyan clenched his jaw.

"Smith. I'm one of Gwaine's—uh. I work for Gwaine. Is he there...?"

"Yes."

There was a moment of silence.

"Can I...talk to him?"

Morgause heaved a purely theatrical sigh. "Fine."

There was a clattering noise on the other end of the phone, before a dark chuckle came over the line.

"This is Gwaine," said a low, smooth voice.

"Um. It's Elyan." Elyan felt his cheeks heat up—if the damn vamp's _voice_ had this much of an effect of him, no wonder he was so screwed.

"So Morgause informed me," Gwaine sounded amused, but there was a sharp edge to his tone that made Elyan shiver.

"I, uh, I need more," Elyan choked out.

"Do you?" The sharpness faded, replaced by satisfaction.

"Y-yeah. It went real f-fast," Elyan stammered.

"Excellent." The call ended, and Elyan let out a shaky breath. Before he'd even put down his phone, there was a knock on the door.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath as his heart jumped.

Not waiting for Elyan to come to the door, Gwaine strode in, grinning sharply. Elyan shuddered as Gwaine’s eyes raked over him.

“I’m impressed by your…industriousness,” the vampire said by way of greeting, holding out a small cardboard box.

Elyan stepped forward carefully, and Gwaine held perfectly still as he reached for the box. As soon as his fingers touched it, however, Gwaine moved. Before Elyan could blink, the box was gone, and Gwaine had pulled Elyan against him with one hand and was gripping Elyan below his chin with the other. Elyan’s eyes widened as Gwaine squeezed his neck lightly—not enough to choke, but only just.

“See to it that this shipment moves just as quickly,” Gwaine said pleasantly, a hint of fang flashing in his smile.

Swallowing convulsively beneath Gwaine’s hand, Elyan tried to nod. Gwaine chuckled, his thumb caressing Elyan’s pulse point.

“Good,” he murmured. “Such dedication to your work deserves a reward, don’t you think?”

Pressed flush against Gwaine, there was no way the vampire could miss Elyan’s physical reaction to his words.

Gwaine smirked. “Indeed.”

Without another word, he threw Elyan to the floor. Gasping at the impact, Elyan scrambled onto his back as Gwaine stood over him. “Strip,” the vampire commanded.

Elyan struggled to obey as quickly as he could—the last time, he’d been too slow, and Gwaine had lost patience. Those had been his favorite jeans, too.

Gwaine smiled at the sight of Elyan trembling on the rug, and Elyan felt himself grow completely hard under the vampire’s predatory stare. Then Gwaine was on him, pinning him to the rug, wrenching Elyan’s legs and hips up and pressing into him, hard and slick. Elyan cried out—he hadn’t seen Gwaine prepare himself, but that didn’t mean anything when he could move faster than Elyan could see. Elyan didn’t even try to be quiet as Gwaine thrust into him; Gwaine forced his arms up over his head and laughed as Elyan struggled instinctively.

“By all means,” he chuckled into Elyan’s mouth. “Make this _interesting._ ”

Elyan could barely breathe as the vampire pounded into him, pleasure eclipsing fear as Elyan saw stars. He came with a final, shuddering cry that left him whimpering as Gwaine finished taking his own pleasure.

Gwaine chuckled again as he pulled out, leaving Elyan boneless and gasping, unable to move. Without pausing, the vampire moved down along Elyan’s body, parting his limp legs with a pleased noise and nuzzling Elyan’s inner thigh.

Elyan yelped as Gwaine’s fangs sank into the soft flesh, perfectly fitting into the remains of his previous mark. Elyan’s eyes rolled back in his head as Gwaine fed, waves of pleasure and pain rippling through him and making his over-sensitized cock twitch. He must have blacked out because when he regained consciousness, Gwaine was stretched out next to him, still fully clothed, toying idly with Elyan’s limp cock.

“Elyan, Elyan, Elyan,” he murmured thoughtfully as Elyan moaned. “Remind me what it is you do when you’re not…working…for me?”

“C-cook at _Lancelot’s_ ,” Elyan gasped as Gwaine brushed his thumb over the tender head of Elyan’s cock.

“Ah, yes. _Lancelot’s_.” Gwaine paused, before beginning to roll Elyan’s balls between his fingers. Elyan moaned and bit his lip, missing the vampire’s next words.

“W-what?”

“I _said,_ ” Gwaine repeated, jerking Elyan’s balls sharply in irritation, “you work with a young man named Merlin Emrys, don’t you?”

Elyan whimpered. “Y-yes.”

“Tell me about him.” Gwaine’s voice was deceptively soft.

Through the fog of exhaustion, arousal and pain clouding his mind, Elyan wondered hazily why Gwaine was interested in Merlin…

“There’s not much to tell,” he stammered, confused. “Orphan. Has a sister. Waiter. Real sweetheart.”

Gwaine frowned. “Don’t lie to me,” he said sharply, hand closing tightly around Elyan’s cock.

Elyan cried out in pain, warning bells going off in his head. “He—ah! He’s been having some f-financial problems?” he tried desperately.

Then Gwaine was leaning over him. “Elyan.” The vampire smiled down at him gently, and Elyan felt himself falling into his deep brown eyes. Gwaine was so beautiful, so kind…

As if he knew what Elyan was thinking, Gwaine’s smile widened. “Merlin’s special, isn’t he? It’s all right, Elyan, you can trust me.”

Elyan felt a thrill run through him—this amazing, powerful creature wanted Elyan to trust him. He _cared_ about Elyan. Of _course_ Elyan trusted him.

“Yeah,” he said happily, pleased to be able to tell Gwaine what he wanted to hear. “Merlin’s _real_ special.”

Gwaine made a pleased noise. “Tell me more,” he encouraged.

Elyan beamed at him. “He can hear what folks are thinkin’,” he confided. “He’s always been able to, I think. He says it sucks, but I think it’s pretty cool, you know?”

“Mmm.” Gwaine made a thoughtful noise, and Elyan wriggled in pleasure as the vampire’s hand absently stroked his rapidly-hardening cock. “Is that _all_ that Merlin can do?”

Elyan sighed. “Far as I know, yeah.”

Gwaine stroked him again, before looking into his eyes. “Thank you, Elyan. You’ve been very…informative.”

Elyan stared up at him, too overcome by his perfection to speak.

“Sleep now,” Gwaine said gently, stroking him one last time. “And forget that I ever mentioned Merlin Emrys.”

With a happy sigh, Elyan closed his eyes, and the world faded away.

* * *

Placing the box of V in Elyan’s fridge, Gwaine glanced at the sleeping human disdainfully. “ _Very_ informative,” he murmured, his lips curving up in a smile.

Stepping over Elyan’s limp form, he walked to the door. The sun would be up soon, and he still had business to attend to back at _Vampelot_ …but tomorrow, he’d have to investigate the matter further. When Arthur had come to him the night before, he’d got the distinct impression that the younger vampire was hiding something about the human who’d finally convinced him to break his bond-fast. Elyan’s words had just confirmed his suspicions.

Leaving Elyan’s shabby home behind, he sped off through the night. Even ignoring the positively _fascinating_ fact that this Merlin Emrys could read thoughts, he must be absolutely _delicious_ to have finally caused Arthur to fall off the Tru Blood bandwagon. Gwaine licked his lips in anticipation. As the Sheriff of Camelot and the surrounding county, he was well within his rights to demand satisfaction from Arthur for keeping Merlin’s intriguing ability from him…

And he know _exactly_ what it would take to satisfy him.

Tomorrow would be a very good night, indeed.

  



	6. Chapter 6

Merlin arrived at work the next day with no small amount of trepidation. He hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms with Lance and Gwen after his last shift, and he was more than half convinced that they’d each take one look at him and just… _know._

Which was absolutely stupid. He was the one who could read minds, after all.

But the fear persisted ‘til he walked through the door and was greeted with a hesitant smile from Gwen and a sweet but worried one from Lance.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Gwen said.

“Hey back.”

And then there were orders to fill, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Until there was a slight ebb in the crowd, and Gwen sidled up next to him.

“So,” she said nonchalantly. “Had a good day off yesterday?”

Sure, if she didn’t count the sex dream he had about a vampire after almost getting beaten to death the night before, and the thoroughly unsettling encounter with said vampire afterwards, in which he found out they’d be bonded for _the rest of his life…_ “Yep.”

“See that vamp?”

“Yep.”

“Gonna see him again?”

Merlin sighed, and turned to her. “Gwen—”

She held up her hands appeasingly. “I know, I know, more I push, more you’re just gonna dig your heels in.” She bit her lip. “Just…promise me somethin’, ‘kay?”

He looked at her warily. “Depends on what it is.”

She took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Promise me that if he ever—that if you _ever_ need help, or anythin’, you’ll _tell me_. Or Lance.”

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I promise.”

She smiled back, and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re too good for me, Gwen,” he said sincerely.

“More’n likely,” she said, grinning as she let him go.

He stuck his tongue out at her, and she elbowed him in the ribs, and Lance told them both to grow up and get back to work.

* * *

Merlin’s shift went by more quickly tonight, on account of it was Friday night and folks were out enjoying themselves. He didn’t exchange any words with Lance that weren’t about work, and the few thoughts of Lance’s that he didn’t manage to block out were laced with worry for him.

But not anger. Even though they were mostly avoiding each other, Lance wasn’t pissed at him, and he figured that was a good enough start.

He wasn’t able to block out the string of curses that raced through Lance’s thoughts about an hour before closing, however, which was what alerted him to Arthur’s arrival.

“Hey,” he said, suddenly shy, before showing Arthur to a booth. “Red wine? So you look like you got a reason to be here?”

Arthur smiled at him, and his heart jumped. “Perfect.”

Conscious of three pairs of eyes on him, one vampire and two human, Merlin turned and headed to the bar. Carefully avoiding eye contact with both Lance and Gwen, he poured the wine and turned without speaking. Arthur's lips curved up in a smile as he neared, and Merlin felt his heart rate quicken.

As soon as he set the glass down, Arthur's hand shot out, closing around his wrist. Merlin hissed as heat flooded through him, looking up into the vampire's shadowed eyes.

"They're staring at us," Arthur said quietly, thumb brushing across the underside of Merlin's wrist.

"They...it's not...they're just worried 'bout me," Merlin gasped. "Don't matter, though, Gwen won't say nothin' an' I don't think Lance will neither."

"Not just them. The whole bar."

"Oh." Merlin gulped, unable to tear his eyes away to confirm or deny Arthur's words.

"Do you know _why_ they're staring?"

Merlin felt a blush starting to creep across his cheeks. Arthur leaned forward slightly, eyes dark and piercing under the bar lights.

"They're staring because you're human, and I'm—"

"Merlin! Tables!" Lance's voice cut through the strained hush of the bar. Merlin jumped, and Arthur released his wrist.

"S-sorry," Merlin stammered, looking away. "Duty calls."

Arthur chuckled. "Of course." Just as Merlin started to leave, he caught Merlin's wrist again, gripping it more tightly this time.

"Let them stare," he hissed, smiling sharply.

Nearly overcome by a sudden rush of heat, Merlin stayed, frozen, until Arthur released him again. Then, before he could change his mind and tell Lance he was leaving early—like, _now_ —he hurried away.

* * *

And so scratch that: Merlin's shift had _never_ gone by more slowly. Lance kept him hopping, nearly doubling his normal table load after insisting that Gwen had to do the backroom weekly inventory _right now_ , on account of he was the boss and he said so, dammit. Arthur watched it all with a small, amused smile that had Merlin tripping over his own feet at every other turn. Miraculously, he managed not to spill anything on an actual customer, but Lance growled at one point that if he dropped another empty glass, it'd come out of his pay.

It was almost a relief when his phone rang right before closing. Lance had been looking like he was about to say something to Merlin that they'd both regret, and the perky pop number that Merlin had set as Morgana's ringtone startled them both.

"Um. Mind if I—?"

Lance sighed. "Fine."

Merlin took the opportunity to step outside and clear his head as he answered. "Hey, sis. What's up?"

"Hey, Mer. Not much." Morgana's voice sounded strained, tired. Granted, it was almost midnight, but she kept strange hours at the best of times. Being up late wouldn't make her sound this...off.

"Oookay," he said slowly. "So you just decided to call me all outta the blue just to say ‘hey’?"

Morgana huffed. "Can't a girl just feel like givin' her little brother a call?"

Even though he knew she couldn't see him, he rolled his eyes. "Morgana. We _never_ talk on the phone. That's why God invented textin', remember?"

Morgana sighed, and was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. I guess," she said finally. "Actually, I, um, had a question for you."

"Fire away." Curiosity roused, Merlin tried to keep his tone neutral.

"It's about your...you know. That thing you can do."

Instantly, Merlin was on alert. "Morgana," he hissed. "You _know_ we don't talk about that in public! Are you alone?"

"Yeah, 'course I am," she said, irritated. "I'm not a total idiot."

"Okay. Okay. Good." Relaxing slightly, his tone softened. "What about it, then?"

"Um. I just wanted...I was just wonderin'. You ever been able to see the future?"

Merlin snorted. "Not fuckin' ever, thank God! That would be _totally_ fucked up."

A frustrated noise came over the phone. "You sure? You never, like...dreamed somethin', an’ then had it happen?"

Merlin's brow creased. "Naw, I'd've told you if I had...why d'you ask?"

"No reason."

And Merlin believed _that_ like he believed in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and the Easter bunny.

But not like he believed in vampires. Anymore.

"Morgana—"

"Really, nevermind. I was just curious, is all."

Frowning slightly, Merlin decided to let it go. He and Morgana were definitely related—the more they were pushed towards something, the more they resisted it just because. He'd be able to get it out of her eventually, but it'd have to be when she wasn't expecting it.

"All right," he said. "Hey, listen, since I got you on the phone, we gotta talk about what needs doin' on the house..."

* * *

Lance bent to put away the glass he’d been drying, resolutely determined to ignore the vampire until Gwen and Merlin returned. When he straightened, however, his eyes flickered over to where Arthur had been sitting.

The booth was empty.

“You’re his employer.”

Biting back a yelp of surprise, Lance whirled around. Arthur had come up behind him and was standing an arm’s length away. He looked Lance up and down, his face blank.

Lance swallowed. “And?”

Arthur’s lips curved slightly. “ _And_ as a result, your feelings for him are completely inappropriate.”

Lance felt himself blush. “I don’t—”

“The way you look at him makes your intentions clear.”

Cheeks burning, Lance looked away. “I’d never do—”

“See that you don’t.”

And yeah, the vampire was right, but his tone made Lance’s lip curl. He glared at Arthur. “Don’t see how it’s any of your damn business,” he snarled.

Then Arthur was on him, pressing him back against the bar. “I’ve _made_ it my business,” he hissed in Lance’s face, his upper lip curling back to reveal his fangs.

Lance went cold all over. He felt a whimper rise in the back of his throat, and barely managed to swallow it down.

Arthur pulled back slightly, staring into Lance’s eyes. “You will leave Merlin _alone_.”

“Y-you tryin’ to glamour me?” Lance gasped.

Arthur laughed harshly. “We both know that doesn’t work on your kind.”

Terror washed over Lance, the whimper escaping from between his lips as he shut his eyes.

“How lucky for you that human noses aren’t sensitive enough to tell that this entire bar reeks of _dog_ ,” Arthur sneered. “Especially…” He leaned forward, pressing his nose into the skin just below Lance’s ear, “... _here_.” His lips brushed over Lance’s neck as he spoke. Lance had to fight the urge to raise his chin, bare his throat, submit to the vampire’s strength…

“How pleased would the good people of Camelot be,” Arthur continued, pulling back and smiling brutally, “to find out that they’d been eating and drinking for all these years in an establishment run by a—”

“Hey! The _fuck_ you doin’?”

Arthur pulled back instantly, spinning around as Lance looked up, startled. Gwen glared at the vampire from the end of the bar, her beautiful face contorted in rage.

Arthur spread his hands and smiled winningly at her. “Lance and I were just reaching an…understanding,” he said pleasantly, reaching towards Lance as if to clap him on the shoulder.

“ _Do not_ fuckin’ _touch_ him!” Gwen shouted. Arthur stared at her, frozen with shock, as she stalked up to him and jabbed her finger into his chest.

“An ‘understandin'’, my ass,” she spat in the vampire’s face. His blue eyes widened almost comically, and Lance felt his own mouth fall open in amazement.

“I’ve seen your kind, Arthur Pendragon,” Gwen continued, her eyes narrowing. “All charmin’ smiles an' perfect hair, thinkin’ you’re God’s gift to the world an' stoppin’ at nothin’ to get whatever damn thing you take a shine to. An' Lord help whoever gets in your way.” She paused for breath, before continuing with flashing eyes. “An' in the end, it don’t matter if you’re undead or alive, you’re nothin’ but a big-ass _bully_.” She jabbed him in the chest again, and Arthur’s eyebrows tried to climb into his hair.

“I-I’m not a—” he began.

“You do _not_ get to speak,” she hissed. “Just ‘understand’ _this_ , pretty boy. You lay one bloodsuckin’ _finger_ on Lance, or do anythin’ _at all_ to hurt Merlin in any way, shape _or_ form, an' I’ll hang your pasty-white, undead muthafuckin’ ass out to _dry_.” She paused. “In the sun. Which would kill you. Again.”

Arthur raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Understood,” he said in a dazed voice.

Satisfied, Gwen stepped back. “Good.” Placing herself squarely between Arthur and Lance, she crossed her arms. “Customers ain’t allowed behind the bar.”

Arthur shook his head once. “You’re a formidable woman, Guinevere Smith,” he said in a tone that was almost admiring.

“And don’t you fuckin’ forget it. Now go on, _git_.”

Arthur _got_.

Gwen watched him ‘til he was out the door, no doubt off to find Merlin, and Lance watched her ‘til she turned back to him, her eyes wide.

“Holy _shit_ ,” she gasped as he stared at her. “The _fuck_ did I just do?”

“You…stared down a vamp,” he said in a weak voice.

Ducking her head with a shaky laugh, she leaned back against the bar. “Fuck,” she managed. “I did.”

Lance swallowed. “That was _amazin_ ’,” he said with feeling.

She looked up at him, stricken. “Oh, shit, Lance—I didn’t mean to…I mean, I know you coulda handled him on your own, but I saw him all up on you like that and I—”

“Gwen,” he interrupted. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

She closed her mouth and blushed. “Um. You’re welcome.”

There was an awkward silence, Gwen chewing her lip and not meeting Lance’s eyes, Lance staring at her like he’d never seen her before.

“Actually,” Lance said after a moment, because fuck, he could have just been seconds from getting his throat torn out and that kinda put a man’s life into perspective, “it wasn’t just ‘fine’.”

Gwen looked at him, a worried expression flashing across her face.

Lance ducked his head sheepishly, smiling up at her from below his lashes. “It was kinda the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he admitted.

Gwen’s blush deepened, the worried expression falling away to be replaced by a small smile. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” She swallowed, and looked away. “Um. I gotta go...finish the…stuff. In the back,” she said weakly.

Lance felt his heart sink. “Okay.”

She left without another word, leaving him standing alone in the bar.

* * *

Arthur appeared by Merlin’s side just as he got off the phone with Morgana, and he jumped. "Asshole," he said, glaring at Arthur.

Arthur smiled at him smugly. "I just like making you twitch." His voice lowered on the last word, and Merlin gulped.

"Oh," he said faintly. "Um. I should...go inside. Say 'bye to Lance."

"I took care of it."

Merlin looked at him suspiciously. "You did, huh?"

Arthur's face was a mask of innocence. "Of course."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "Okay. But you get me fired, an' I'll..."

Arthur took a step forward, smirking. "You'll what?"

"I'll think of somethin'," Merlin snapped.

Arthur took another step forward, suddenly serious. “Your friends care about you a great deal. They worry about you, look out for you, want you to be safe and happy...” He trailed off.

Merlin blinked. “Well, yeah, that’s kinda what friends do.”

Arthur looked away, mouth twisting in a strange smile. “You’re very lucky to have friends like that,” he said quietly. “If I’d had even one person like them in my life, maybe I wouldn’t have—” He stopped abruptly, as if the words had caught in his throat.

“Wouldn’t have what?” Merlin felt something twist in him at the utter desolation in Arthur’s voice.

Arthur looked back at him, his expression shifting from untouchably distant to boyishly sweet so fast it stole Merlin's breath away. "It doesn’t matter, now. May I walk you home?" he asked, offering Merlin his arm with an exaggerated bow.

Merlin huffed, but couldn't stop the warm feeling that blossomed in his chest. "I'm not a _girl_ , Arthur," he said peevishly, but he grinned in return as he took Arthur's arm.

Arthur pulled him close, looking deep into his eyes. "Believe me, I know," the vampire said huskily, before practically dragging Merlin away from the bar and off down the road home.

Once they'd put the bar behind them, Arthur slowed slightly, and they fell into a comfortable stroll. Merlin was acutely aware of Arthur's solid presence beside him, the feel of Arthur's arm against his, the way they fell in step together almost perfectly. He knew he was blushing, but he couldn't stop grinning long enough to care.

"So," he began after a few minutes had passed. "How was work tonight?"

Arthur made an amused noise. "It was...work."

"Vampire business?"

"Precisely."

"What's that even _mean_?"

Arthur laughed, but it sounded strained. "It's probably better for you not to know," he said lightly, but Merlin heard a hint of tension in his tone.

"Uh-huh," he said skeptically. "You know, since we're all bonded an' shit, I think I got the right to know what I'm gettin' into with all y'all."

Arthur glanced at him, frowning slightly. "There's no 'all y'all', Merlin. You're...mine."

Ignoring the thrill that ran through him at Arthur's words, Merlin pressed on. "Really? You think I'm never gonna run into another vamp? 'Cuz I'm just sayin', that don't seem all that realistic to me."

Arthur's frown deepened, and he pulled Merlin closer. Merlin didn't even think he realized he was doing it, and that thought made something hot uncurl in his stomach.

"Maybe not," Arthur said in a low, dark voice. "But I can definitely try to keep them away from you—"

"—and you will definitely fail," came a voice from behind them.

Arthur released Merlin's arm and spun around so quickly that Merlin nearly fell—then Arthur was reaching back with one arm, pulling Merlin against him and shielding Merlin with his own body.

"Arthur, what—?" Merlin gasped, peering around Arthur's shoulder.

A man—no, _vampire_ , those were definitely fangs peeking out from that smirking mouth—stood in the middle of the road behind them, staring at them with a mixture of amusement and condescension. His dark hair fell across his forehead artfully, and Merlin would have thought him pretty hot if he hadn't been wearing such a shit-eating grin.

"Come now, Arthur, put those away," the newcomer said reprovingly. Glancing at Arthur's face, Merlin started—Arthur's fangs were completely bared, his lips pulled all the way back and his eyes practically glowing with rage as he stared, motionless, at the other vampire.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked again, shaken. This did _not_ look good.

The other vampire made a sympathetic noise. "Arthur, you're frightening your pet. Poor little thing." He leered at Merlin, who bristled.

"I'm not a—" he snapped, but the vampire cut him off.

"He's a feisty one, isn't he?" the vampire asked with a delighted smile. "And so _very_ pretty." Then his expression shifted so quickly it made Merlin blink.

"I hear he also does a _very_ intriguing trick,” he said in a dangerous voice. Merlin’s breath hitched—did he know about…? But Arthur said he hadn’t told anyone…

Arthur’s hand tightened almost painfully on Merlin’s arm. “That’s not your concern,” he growled.

The vampire’s lip curled. “That’s not for you to decide.” Looking away from Arthur, he fixed Merlin with an unwavering gaze.

“Show me,” he said in a flat voice.

"He won’t." Arthur blocked Merlin completely, and Merlin didn’t even mind that Arthur had answered for him.

The vampire smiled again, slowly, and Merlin shivered at the menace in his eyes.

"That wasn't a request," he said softly.

"You can't touch him," Arthur said, his voice strong and sure. "He's mine. It's against—"

The other vampire waved his hand dismissively. "—against Vampire Law, yes, of course." He took a step forward, and Merlin fought against the urge to step back.

"But the law won't be broken if you give me _permission_... " the vampire said, baring his fangs in a smile that made Merlin's blood run cold.

"Never," Arthur hissed.

The other vampire took another step forward, and pouted. "Well, then, at least _introduce_ me to your precious little toy," he said in a wounded tone. "Really, Arthur, there's no need to be _rude_."

Arthur's fangs retracted with an audible _click_ , but his voice was tight as he responded. "Merlin, this is Gwaine. Gwaine, Merlin."

"Wish I could say it was a pleasure, but you're kind of an ass," Merlin snapped, both stung and scared by all the talk of "pets" and "toys" and "tricks.”

Gwaine threw back his head and laughed, and Merlin shivered. When Gwaine calmed, he fixed Merlin with a stare that made Merlin's breath catch.

"Oh, I _like_ you," Gwaine said, smiling through his fangs. "Pity Arthur found you first. We could have had so much... _fun_...together."

"Right," Merlin snapped. "Keep dreamin'."

Gwaine laughed again. "I don't need to dream, _Merlin_. It may be against Vampire Law for me to touch you without Arthur's permission at the moment, but..." He focused on Arthur, his smug smile returning, "we both know how changeable the law can be, don't we?"

Arthur growled. "If you _dare_ , if you even _think_ —"

Gwaine snorted. "You'll what? Go running to the other Sheriffs? And get yourself laughed out of Louisiana?" His eyes flashed. "I don't think so, princess."

Arthur's voice was steady as he replied. "No. Not them. I'll go straight to _her_."

Gwaine's smile died instantly. "And you think _she'll_ spare one second worrying about your pathetic attachment to—" he hissed.

"Yes."

The vampires stared at each other, and Merlin squirmed. He was missing something here, something big, and it made him feel jumpy.

"What are you talkin’ about? What do sheriffs got to do with it? Who's _she_?" he asked crossly.

Both vampires turned blank stares on him, and he froze.

"Vampire business," they chorused, before looking at each other warily.

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "That some kind of official party line?"

Arthur shot him a quelling glance. "No. It's just—"

"—probably better for me not to know, yeah, whatever." He was rapidly losing patience with this whole encounter. "If y'all are done whippin' it out over me, I kinda wanna go home."

Arthur looked confused. "Whipping what out?"

Merlin blushed so hard he though he'd burst something. "Never mind," he said quickly. "Figure of speech, is all."

Gwaine laughed. "Oh, Arthur, can't you at least _try_ to keep up with the times? For someone so bent on going mainstream, you're _so very_ behind." He smiled at Merlin, predatory and sharp. "As for you, little hawk, if you _ever_ want to experience the pleasure that a _real_ vampire can give you," he glanced at Arthur and curled his lip, "I'd be more that happy to 'whip out'... _whatever_ it is that you desire." His voice poured over Merlin's skin like warm honey, and Merlin shivered in spite of himself.

Looking him up and down once last time, Gwaine smiled brightly. " _Such_ a pleasure to meet you, Merlin." Then his face darkened, and his tone grew sharp. "And Arthur...just remember who it is that you work for, and consider your choices carefully."

And on that threatening note, he vanished, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone in the road.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Merlin turned to Arthur. "What. The _hell._ Was that?"

Arthur didn't look at him, just stared into the space where Gwaine had been. " _That_ was Gwaine. My—" He stopped, face pinching as though he'd bitten into something sour, "—my _boss_."

"Your boss? Waitaminute, _he_ runs _Vampelot_? But he's so..." Merlin trailed off, not sure exactly how to describe Gwaine. Creepy? Definitely. Arrogant? Of course. Seductive...?

Well.

As if sensing Merlin's inner conflict, Arthur released his arm and turned away. Merlin started forward involuntarily at the loss of contact, but Arthur was standing completely still, stiff as a board, his entire body screaming _do not touch._

Which was utter bullshit, in Merlin's opinion. "Hey," he said, annoyed. "You don't get to close me out like that. I dunno what just happened, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't good, an' it sounds like he knows about my—" He broke off, frustrated by Arthur's lack of reaction.

Huffing in irritation, Merlin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Arthur from behind, resting his chin on Arthur's shoulder and nuzzling into his neck. "Knock it off," he breathed. "It's over, an' I’m kinda freakin’ out here, an' you're bein' an asshole again."

A muscle in Arthur's jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, but he relaxed slightly, allowing Merlin to pull him back against Merlin's chest. They stood there for a moment in silence, before Arthur turned in Merlin's arms and returned his embrace. He rested his forehead on Merlin's shoulder, murmuring into Merlin's neck.

"I'm sorry."

Merlin felt a rush of something fierce, almost protective, wash over him as Arthur continued. "I didn't want you to meet him."

"Got that, yeah," Merlin said with a small grin. "The whole fangy thing was a clue."

Arthur chuckled. "Fangy thing?"

"Yup."

Arthur raised his head, pulling Merlin in close. "Gwaine is very dangerous," he said solemnly, looking deep into Merlin's eyes. "He's old. And powerful. And without remorse." He paused. "He… _farms_ , I think you called it." One hand reached up, brushing Merlin's hair back, tucking a particularly unruly piece behind his ear. "I don’t know how he found out about your ability, or if that’s even what he was referring to, but I don't want him to _touch_ you."

Merlin's mouth was dry, and his throat felt too tight. "Sounds like he can't," he said softly.

Arthur nodded slowly, but his eyes were worried. "For now." He lowered his hand slightly, cupping the back of Merlin's neck, pulling him forward ‘til their lips brushed. "But he could make you _want_ him to," he whispered. "And if you went to him willingly...it might be breaking our law, but no one would stand against him."

Merlin pulled back, realization dawning. "'S that what had you all upset? You thought I—that I'd want—" He laughed in disbelief. "Dumbass." Pressing forward, he captured Arthur's mouth, pushing his tongue between Arthur's lips, making the vampire moan and tighten his grip on Merlin's neck.

After a thoroughly intoxicating moment, Merlin pulled back again. "I'm not lookin' to get bit, remember?" he said with a grin. "Plus, you're way hotter." He leered at Arthur, and the vampire laughed, blushing.

"You said something about wanting to go home?" he murmured, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s.

A lance of heat spiked through Merlin's stomach, and suddenly Gwaine and whatever danger he could pose was the farthest thing possible from his thoughts. "Yeah," he said breathlessly. "But only if you're actually gonna come in this time."

Arthur went completely still, eyes dark as he stared at Merlin, unblinking. Then the moment passed, and he pressed his lips to Merlin's jaw.

"Yes," he said in a low voice, the vibrations rumbling across Merlin's skin.

Merlin shuddered. "Then _fuck,_ let's get outta here!"

Arthur huffed a laugh into his mouth. The world tilted, and Merlin's gasp was lost in the sound of rushing wind as the moon shone down on the empty road.

  



	7. Chapter 7

“Come in, come in, oh my _God_ , come in!” Merlin gasped into Arthur’s mouth as soon as they arrived on the porch—they hadn’t flown, but they’d done something close...but he’d have to ask about that _later_. He fumbled blindly for the doorknob, somehow managing to get the key in and unlock it despite being pressed urgently against the door frame and kissed until he could barely breathe. The door swung open and Arthur walked Merlin backwards over the threshold, maneuvering him deftly through the hall and into the living room.

 _It’s happenin', it’s happenin', can’t believe it’s_ finally _fuckin' happenin'_! Merlin’s mind buzzed with excitement as Arthur pulled Merlin’s work tee shirt off over his head. Merlin scrabbled for Arthur’s buttons with shaking hands; between the two of them, they managed to strip Arthur’s shirt off as well, and then they were chest to chest, pressing hard against each other, tongues pushing back and forth as Merlin panted into Arthur’s mouth.

Merlin felt dizzy and drunk and high off of Arthur’s kisses all at the same time, unwilling to pull away long enough to breathe. Arthur—who obviously didn’t have the same need for oxygen—wasn’t exactly helping with that, but it stopped being a problem when he pulled Merlin close and kissed a line of fire down Merlin’s neck. Merlin gasped at the loss of Arthur’s mouth on his, drawing in gulps of air even as he tried to bend down and find Arthur’s lips again. But Arthur was licking into the dip of his collarbone, hands snaking around behind Merlin and cupping his ass, pulling Merlin tight against Arthur and grinding their erections together.

Merlin moaned, head falling back, as Arthur’s strong hands squeezed his ass. He jerked forward helplessly and Arthur made a low, desperate noise in the back of his throat. Still gripping Merlin tightly with the other, he reached one hand around to Merlin’s front, pressing sure fingers against Merlin’s crotch as he undid Merlin’s fly. Then Merlin’s jeans and boxers were sliding down over his hips, and Arthur was pulling down his own slacks, and they were rubbing against each other, skin on skin, all delicious heat and friction and _want._

Merlin felt his eyes roll back in his head as Arthur’s hand wrapped around them both—he was so hard it almost hurt, and Arthur’s grip was almost too strong, too dry. But Merlin’s hips were snapping forward and he was making a whimpering noise, and Arthur was nosing at his neck and holding him tight, steadying him. Merlin’s hands clenched convulsively on Arthur’s shoulders as his arousal intensified—he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he tried to say something, but couldn’t quite find the words…

He was rocking into Arthur’s fist, crying out with every thrust, when Arthur’s finger slipped between his cheeks and pressed against his tight entrance.

Merlin’s eyes snapped open as a cold wave of shock washed over him— _shit,_ no, he wasn’t ready for that, he didn’t…but he _did,_ it was Arthur, it was okay, of _course_ he wanted—

Arthur froze.

His sudden stillness jarred Merlin. “What—?”

Then Arthur was all the way across the room, facing away from Merlin as he clutched the door frame. Merlin almost fell to his knees, his entire body shrieking with loss, as he stared blankly at the vampire’s back.

“You’re frightened,” Arthur said, so softly that Merlin could barely hear him.

“What? No, I—I was surprised, is all.” Merlin’s voice cracked and he reached out for Arthur—

“You still are,” Arthur whispered shakily. “I can feel it…you’re terrified. Of me.”

“No!” Merlin gasped. Arthur’s words hit him like a bullet in the chest. “Arthur, no, I—I _want_ this, I want _you_!” He staggered forward and caught Arthur’s shoulder, and the vampire flinched.

“I can’t do this. Not when you’re so scared—”

Swallowing a cry, Merlin pulled Arthur around to face him. “I’m not scared _of you_ , I just—it was goin’ real fast, an’ I needed a sec to get used to the idea, but I _want_ to, with _you_ , an’ you can’t l-leave me here like this—” His throat closed up, and Arthur pulled him forward, pressing Merlin’s forehead down into his shoulder.

Merlin’s tears were hot against Arthur’s cool skin as he wrapped his arms around the vampire’s waist. “Don’t leave me, _please_ don't leave me,” he sobbed into Arthur’s neck.

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere,” Arthur said gently, holding him tight. “It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay.”

Merlin felt himself calm almost instantly at Arthur’s words, but he couldn’t let go. “Promise?”

“I promise,” Arthur said immediately. “And we’re not going to do anything that you’re not ready for.”

“I’m _ready,_ ” Merlin protested weakly into Arthur’s shoulder. “I just needed a second, but I _want_ to. I want you to—to _fuck_ me.”

Arthur hissed softly, his hands clenching involuntarily where they rested on Merlin’s hips. “Merlin,” he said quietly. “We don’t have to rush into this.”

Merlin made a frustrated noise. “I’m not some fuckin’…blushing _damsel_ , Arthur!”

“No,” Arthur’s voice was steady, gentle but firm. “But you _are_ a blushing virgin.”

“Yeah, an' I kinda hoped we’d be takin’ care of that by now,” Merlin said unhappily.

“There’s no hurry for us to fuck...”

“—and I’ve been waitin’ for-fuckin’- _ever_ , so don’t tell me there’s no need to rush—”

“—when there’s so much else we can do first.”

Merlin stopped. “What?”

Arthur’s mouth ghosted over Merlin’s ear, tongue flicking out as he spoke in a low voice. “I said, there’s no hurry for us to fuck when there’s so much else we can do first.”

Merlin shivered, his eyelids fluttering closed as a wave of heat washed over him. “Oh.”

Arthur caught him under the chin, tipping his head up until they were eye to eye. Smiling gently, Arthur brought their mouths together, and Merlin moaned into the sweet warmth of the kiss. Arthur teased him with his tongue, pulling back before diving in, just long enough for Merlin to start to respond, never long enough to satisfy. Merlin clung to him as Arthur rocked them together again, slower this time. He reached down between them and Merlin strained towards his hand—

—but Arthur didn’t touch him, just pushed his jeans down until they fell to his ankles.

“Out,”Arthur whispered into his mouth. Merlin pulled back reluctantly, kicking off his jeans and boxers before turning, naked, to face Arthur…

...who had pulled his slacks up.

Merlin stared at him in disbelief. “Hey, that’s not fair!”

“Shh.” Arthur stepped forward and grasped Merlin’s shoulders, gently pushing him backwards until he ran into the couch. Ignoring Merlin’s frown, Arthur slipped behind Merlin and lay on his back, pulling Merlin down after him and settling Merlin on his back between Arthur’s legs.

“Arthur, I don’t—” Merlin started to complain.

“Shh,” Arthur said again. “Let me do this.”

“Do what?” Merlin said irritably. “Lyin’ naked in your lap while you still got pants on ain’t really what I had in mind—”

Arthur huffed a laugh into his hair. Merlin was about to snap back that this wasn’t funny, when Arthur reached down and ran the tip of one finger along Merlin’s half-hard cock.

“Oh, _shit_!”

Arthur laughed again. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, closing his hand around Merlin and stroking him leisurely, perfectly.

“Ohhhhh…” Merlin’s head fell back onto Arthur’s shoulder as Arthur’s hand continued to move at an excruciating, exquisite pace—Merlin tried to thrust up into Arthur’s firm grip, but Arthur wrapped his other arm around Merlin’s stomach and held him in place. Merlin groaned, head rolling from side to side, until Arthur captured his mouth and claimed it with hot, deep kisses as his hand continued its beautiful torture. It wasn’t long before Merlin felt his climax approaching—his fingers clenched on Arthur’s thighs, his breaths coming faster and faster until—

—until Arthur slowed, leaving Merlin almost sobbing with frustration. As Merlin shook, hovering just on the edge of completion, Arthur’s hand dipped down between his legs, cradling his balls, making his legs open even wider.

When Merlin had almost regained his capacity for speech, Arthur abandoned his balls and returned to his cock, jerking him off at the same slow, inescapable pace until Merlin saw stars.

He struggled weakly against Arthur's arm, wanting Arthur to go faster, to stop teasing him, but Arthur pulled his hand away and Merlin fell back with a whimper, squirming against Arthur's chest. Arthur hissed into his ear, sliding his other arm down Merlin's stomach and gripping his hip, pulling Merlin against him so Merlin could feel the unmistakable hardness underneath Arthur's slacks. Gasping, Merlin wriggled his hips, and was rewarded by a soft moan in his ear as Arthur's still-clothed erection slipped between his cheeks.

Then Arthur touched him again, and Arthur's hips were thrusting into him, pushing him up into Arthur's hand. Merlin whined as heat washed over him; arching back into Arthur, he raised his arms over his head and buried his hands in Arthur's hair. Arthur nuzzled his neck, pressing hot kisses just below his jaw and mouthing the curve of his ear.

Merlin's hands tightened in Arthur's hair, his body taut as a bowstring, as he neared the peak of pleasure again—

—only to have Arthur's hand circle his cock, squeezing almost hard enough to hurt, preventing his release completely. Nearly crying with frustration, Merlin opened his mouth to curse, but Arthur swallowed his protests as he began stroking Merlin again.

"Arthur, _please_ ," Merlin begged when his third almost-orgasm passed in the haze of blissful agony. "J-just _l-let_ me—!"

Arthur's arm tightened around him, but his voice shook in Merlin's ear. "N-no. Not yet. I-I can _feel_ —" He twisted his wrist and Merlin cried out, nearly arching off the couch. He was dimly aware of Arthur's answering cry as he sank back down, shaking as Arthur worked him over, again and again, playing Merlin's body like an instrument, every touch eliciting cries of pleasure so intense it was nearly pain.

Under Arthur's hands, time lost all meaning. Merlin's world narrowed to the feeling of Arthur's fingers wrapped around his cock, Arthur's mouth on his skin, Arthur's erection pressing against him. Losing all ability for speech, he whined and moaned incoherently, crying out with each stroke, gasping into Arthur's mouth when their lips met. Arthur's body was taut underneath him, shaking with tension even as he reduced Merlin to a state of boneless ecstasy.

"You're so beautiful," Arthur murmured shakily into Merlin’s ear. "That's it, now...come for me, Merlin."

And Merlin did, screaming over the edge as Arthur held him tight, vision whiting out as his mind overloaded and the world fell away.

* * *

When he regained consciousness, he was wrapped in Arthur's arms as the vampire pressed soft kisses into his hair.

"Oh...my...God," Merlin gasped weakly, too worn out to move. "I know it's supposed to be amazin' and all, but I had no idea that sex was like _that_!"

Arthur paused in his kissing, ducking his head to rub his cheek against Merlin's. "Neither did I," he said in a quiet voice. "It's...never been like that before."

"Fuck. Wow." Merlin's thoughts were fuzzy, still dulled by the afterglow of pleasure that saturated his limbs, but his brow creased slightly. "Hey, wait a sec, you didn't even...did you?"

Arthur reached up and tipped Merlin's head back, kissing him almost chastely.

"I felt your release," he whispered against Merlin's lips.

Merlin frowned. "That don't count," he complained. "Not really." Twisting slightly, he looked up at Arthur. "We gotta do it again."

A small smile flashed across Arthur's face. "When you've recovered."

Merlin thought about protesting, but even the effort of holding himself up slightly was almost too much, so he gave in. "Fine. But next time, we both better be naked," he grumbled.

"Yes." Arthur kissed his neck, and Merlin stretched lazily to give him better access.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured.

"Mmm?"

"I—" Arthur paused, sounding uncertain.

"What?"

"I want—" He stopped again.

Merlin reached up with one arm and twined his fingers in Arthur's hair. "Whatta you want?" he whispered huskily.

Arthur bent forward and kissed him soundly, and Merlin felt as though he was melting down into Arthur, unable to tell where he ended and Arthur began. When Arthur broke off the kiss, he guided Merlin's head up so they were eye to eye.

"Other vampires will know not to touch you," he said in a serious voice. "But humans...won't."

  
Merlin blinked at him. "Um. I guess not."

Arthur's eyes searched his. "I want them to. I want them to know that I'm—" he paused again, as if searching for the right word, "that I'm courting you."

Merlin laughed. "'S not exactly what I'd call it."

Arthur frowned. "Our situation might not be a traditional courtship, but I want people to know that we—that we're—"

"Datin’?" Merlin supplied. He felt himself blush. "That you're my boyfriend?"

Arthur cocked his head to the side. "If that's what it's called now." Then he smiled at Merlin, soft and tender. "I don't care what it's called, as long they know I'm the only one you're doing it with," he said quietly.

"Fuck, _yes_ ," Merlin breathed, before pulling Arthur back down into a kiss.

  



	8. Chapter 8

There was something in the water tonight, Merlin decided, because the moon sure as heck wasn’t full, but everyone was being jumpier than a nine-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. In the month that he and Arthur had “officially” been dating, things had seemed to calm down a bit. Gwen still wasn’t thrilled about it, but at least she was civil. Lance was quiet on the matter and tended to avoid Arthur, but Merlin figured that was the best he could hope for. Elyan and Morgana had each met Arthur a handful of times, and gave him a wide berth as well. They seemed nervous around him rather than hateful, though, so hopefully they’d warm up to him once they cottoned on to the fact that he was a gentleman vampire, and not one of those nasty bastards that the anti-vampire rights groups liked to bring up in every interview.

As for Arthur, he took Merlin’s friends and sister in stride, and was unfailingly charming and polite whenever he came by _Lancelot’s_ , which was almost a nightly occurrence. It still gave Merlin a warm feeling down below each time the vampire walked through the door and ordered a glass of red, and he didn’t think that was gonna stop any time soon. But at least he’d gotten over blushing like a schoolgirl whenever Arthur caught his eye.

Well, mostly.

Tonight was an exception. Everyone else’s nerves had rubbed off on Merlin, even though he’d been trying even harder than usual to block out their jittery thoughts. The worst was whatever was going on between Lance and Gwen—they’d been dancing around each other for weeks, alternating between awkward exchanges and warm, hesitant looks that had Merlin rolling his eyes. He’d caught a stray thought here and there and was on the verge of telling them to just go fuck already, but experience had taught him that folks were less grateful for such interventions than one might expect. So he hung back, said nothing, and watched them bumble their way towards a clue, one blush at a time.

Morgana and Elyan were being weird too, but less obviously so. Elyan seemed tense, and kept shooting glances at where Arthur sat (watching Merlin, of course). Morgana, however, was staring at Elyan with an almost desperate expression, which Merlin would have described as 'longing', if Morgana hadn’t been aware of Elyan’s preferences for nearly as long as Merlin had been.

He filled orders absently, pondering the crazy that was his life, when the volume on the TV increased suddenly. Glancing up, he saw that Elyan had come out from the kitchen and commandeered the remote, just as the 10 o’clock news started up.

“Elyan, turn it down, no one wants to watch that shit,” Lance said, rolling his eyes.

“I do,” Morgana snapped. “And I’m a payin’ customer. Leave it be.”

Raising an eyebrow at her, Lance shrugged and turned back to the glass he was wiping down without a word.

Merlin followed Morgana and Elyan’s eyes to the screen, where their local newscaster was introducing the top story.

“...and in unprecedented unanimity, both the House and the Senate voted today to amend the Drug Enforcement Administration’s Controlled Substances Act to include vampire blood, or ‘V’, as a Schedule I controlled substance. The vampire community has supported this decision, stating on the record that they intend to crack down on the supplying of V to humans by vampires as well. This marks one of the first political campaigns in which both humans and vampires have fallen decidedly in the same camp…”

“Seriously, turn it off,” Lance said in irritation. “Y’all know I can’t stand politics.”

Elyan turned the TV off immediately, returning to the kitchen without another word. Morgana watched him go.

Merlin sidled over to her to ask what was going on, but before he could get the words out, the bar door flew open with a crash.

“What’s a vamp gotta do to get a bite to eat around here?” came a loud, abrasive voice.

Startled, Merlin—and everyone else in the bar—turned to face the newcomer. The vampire was tall and broad, bigger than Arthur, and would have been handsome if his mouth wasn’t twisted into a mocking sneer. His blue eyes were cold and he seemed…coarse, somehow. His eyes fell on Merlin, and Merlin shuddered.

“Hello there, darlin’,” the vampire said in an oily voice. “You gonna _serve_ me, or what?”

He took a step foward—

—and nearly ran into Arthur. Merlin blinked—he still hadn’t got used to Arthur doing his super-speed thing, although he’d managed to get him to stop doing it inside the house.

“Valiant.” Arthur’s voice was anything but friendly. “You’re out of your jurisdiction.”

The new vampire focused on Arthur, his grin sharp and vicious. “Am I, now?” he sneered. “An’ how d’you know your Sheriff ain’t fully aware that I’m here?”

Arthur didn’t back down. “Gwaine hates you,” he said flatly. “He’d have told me if he’d given you permission to enter his district.”

Valiant’s eyes widened mockingly. “Aw, that hurts. Right here.” He thumped his hand over his heart. Then he grinned again. “Wait, no it don’t. Cuz we’re fuckin’ _dead,_ an' I don’t give a damn what your precious Sheriff thinks ‘bout me.”

“Would you care to say that to his face?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ would,” Valiant’s grin widened. “Why don’t you run an’ fetch him like the lil’ bitch you are, so he an’ I can have a friendly ol’ chat, Sheriff-to-Sheriff.”

Arthur didn’t move.

Chuckling nastily, Valiant stepped around him. “An’ while you’re gone, I can get to know the locals—”

He’d barely started to reach towards Merlin when Arthur’s hand shot out; grabbing Valiant by the neck, he slammed the larger vampire down onto a table.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” he snarled, his fangs brushing over Valiant’s cheek...

And then he was flung backwards, crashing heavily against the bar. Merlin gasped as Valiant seemed to levitate up off the table, an unholy joy lighting up his face.

“‘S that how we’re gonna do this?” he asked with delight. “You got no idea what the fuck you just got yourself into, Pendragon—”

“—And you don’t neither, asshole.” Gwen’s voice commanded attention, and the eyes of the entire bar snapped to her. Lofting a sawed-off shotgun, she glared down the barrel at Valiant.

Valiant laughed. “Ain’t no way buckshot’s gonna keep me from eatin’ everyone in this fuckin’ bar.”

Eyes narrowing, Gwen’s finger wrapped around the trigger. “Ain’t loaded with buckshot. This baby’s jam-packed with wooden pellets.”

Valiant’s laughter died in his throat. “What?”

“You heard me, ugly. Wooden pellets _an'_ silver shavings too. Might not kill ya, but sure as fuck’ll hurt like a bitch.”

“You’re lying.” Valiant’s face went eerily blank.

Gwen smiled, a sharp, dangerous look Merlin had never seen on her before. “Try me, fanger.”

Lip curling, Valiant took a step back. “Ain’t even worth my time,” he snarled, before vanishing in a gust of wind.

The entire bar was silent as Gwen slowly lowered the gun. She ducked down behind the bar, and Merlin heard the sound of bottles shifting as she hid the weapon away. He opened his mouth to say something, like _What the fuck, Gwen?_ or maybe _Holy_ hell, _woman, when did you get so badass?_ , but Arthur appeared in front of him. At the look on the vampire—his boyfriend’s—face, the words died in Merlin’s throat.

“I have to go,” Arthur said quietly. “Gwaine needs to know that Valiant was here.”

Merlin gulped. “Okay.”

Arthur reached out and pulled Merlin into a hug. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I may not be back in time to walk you home, but Valiant will know I’m reporting him to Gwaine. He should be far away by now, back in his own territory.”

Merlin nodded silently.

Arthur held him at arm’s length. “I’d stay if I could.”

Merlin managed a wan smile. “I know. Duty calls.”

Arthur flashed him a strained smile in return, and was gone before Merlin could blink.

Fighting down a wave of disappointment—they’d spent almost every night of the past month together, so it wasn’t like he was deprived or anything—Merlin turned back to the bar.

“Really, it ain’t a big deal,” Gwen was insisting as Lance stared at her in open admiration.

“The hell it ain’t, I had no idea you were even _keepin’_ that down there. The fuck did you even _find_ that thing?” Lance asked.

Gwen blushed and mumbled something vague.

“What’d you say?” Merlin asked, sitting down on the bar stool across from her.

She shot him a quelling glance. “Said, I didn’t find it, I made it myself. Been feelin’ the need for some extra protection ever since Ar—” She broke off. “Ever since vamps started comin’ round,” she finished lamely.

Merlin frowned, about to protest that _his_ vampire didn’t merit a special gun, but Gwen cut him off.

“Speakin’ of,” she said with forced nonchalance, “How’re things goin’ with you an’ Arthur? Y’all fucked yet?”

Lance choked on the beer he’d cracked open, and Merlin scowled at Gwen’s attempt to change the subject.

“Things’re great,” he said. “We’re takin’ it slow, is all.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow, and he manfully didn’t ask about her and Lance in retaliation.

“Well, that’s good, I reckon,” she said blandly.

Merlin made a noncommittal noise and went out to check on his tables. It wasn’t Gwen’s fault that that was still a bit of a sore spot—he had no problem with everything else they’d been doing (and damn, having a boyfriend who didn’t need to breathe made for some fucking _awesome_ blow jobs), but after a month of doing everything but, he was getting kinda antsy. He knew Arthur was too, although the vampire would never admit it. Arthur was still terrified at the thought of scaring Merlin, and Merlin could tell exactly how careful he was being every time they were together. Merlin would just have to figure out a way to prove that he was ready, that he _wanted_ Arthur in every possible way.

Chewing his lip, Merlin made his rounds, forcing himself to focus on finishing up his shift instead of dwelling on the thought that every time Arthur went out of his way to be gentle, Merlin just ended up wanting to see him let go that much more...

And that he was starting to get curious about what it would feel like to get bitten.

* * *

Morgana cornered Elyan out back when he went to take out the trash.

“Jesus, woman!” he snapped as she appeared from the shadows. “The fuck you doin’ out here?”

“I need more,” she said flatly.

Elyan’s stomach dropped. “No idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

Morgana narrowed her eyes at him. “Fuck _that_. Edwin told me you’re his dealer, an' he’s almost out. I need _more_.”

Elyan swallowed. “Shit, girl, _you’re_ the one he was tellin’ me about?” His brow creased with worry. “He’d Bad News, capital B-N. You should stay away from that muthafucka, an' from…from that shit he does too.”

Morgana glared at him. “That shit you sell, you mean? Fuckin’ hypocrite, you can sell to everyone else but not me? I thought we were friends!”

Elyan glared back. “You know I love you like a sister, which is _exactly_ why I’m tellin’ you to keep away from it. You don’t wanna get involved with vamps if you can help it.”

Morgana opened her mouth to protest, but he crossed his arms over his chest and talked over her. “‘Sides, I ain’t got no more. My supplier came to me yesterday an’ said it was over, that the vamp higher-ups were gettin’ behind this damned CSA amendment an’ puttin’ an end to it all. So I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to.”

Morgana scowled. “Fuck you."

Then she spun on her heel and walked away.

Elyan watched her go, a wave of guilt washing over him. If he’d known that she was using his stuff, he’d have…

He’d have what? He couldn’t exactly have told Gwaine he wanted out again, not if he wanted to stay alive.

But he could have told Merlin.

He _should_ tell Merlin.

But Merlin was dating a vamp.

So he’d keep an eye on Morgana, and talk to Merlin if it seemed like she was gonna do something stupid. If Gwaine said the supply had dried up, then she’d be shit outta luck and have no choice but to go off it.

So there was really no point in getting Merlin...and his vamp...all upset just yet.

* * *

Merlin scuffed the ground as he walked home, knowing he was sulking but not caring much. Stupid asshole vampire, breezing into town just in time to fuck up his evening. He walked slower than usual, half-hoping that Arthur would show up before he got home. Not that it really mattered, though, now that Arthur could enter his house whenever he felt like it…as long as the sun wasn’t up, of course.

He’d asked Arthur about that one night as they lay curled up in Merlin’s bed, Merlin sated and boneless against Arthur’s chest. Arthur had explained that vampires could force themselves to be up during the day, as long as they avoided the direct sunlight, but if they were awake for more than a certain amount of time, they’d get something called ‘the bleeds’, and start bleeding from their eyes, nose, ears. It sounded super gross, and Merlin had stopped that line of conversation right there. Well, he’d stopped it after learning that a vampire’s strength and age determined how long they’d be able to handle the daytime—no vampire could withstand the sun, but the old ones could stay up almost all day, _and_ force their followers to do so as well.

“You mean, old like Gwaine?” Merlin had asked, his nose pressed to Arthur’s neck.

Arthur’s arms had tightened around him unconsciously, the way they always did when Merlin asked something he didn’t want to answer. “No,” he said shortly. “Older.”

Merlin had shivered, and pressed closer, and Arthur had distracted him by doing something with his tongue that was illegal in at least seven states.

He was so wrapped up in thoughts of Arthur that he didn’t see the figure standing in the road until he was nearly on top of it.

“Hey there, pretty thing,” Valiant leered.

Merlin’s blood froze. Valiant’s smile widened and he took a step forward—Merlin backed up so fast he almost fell.

“Get the fuck away from me, I’m Arthur’s!” The words fell from his tongue automatically, and he waited for Valiant to back off—

Valiant took another step forward. “Do I look like I give a damn?”

Merlin fought down the urge to run—it would be pointless, and there was no way he was turning his back on this motherfucker. “Y-you should,” he said, hating the way his voice shook. “He went to tell Gwaine—”

Valiant laughed. “Figures. Fuckin’ snitch. Don’t matter though, I’ll just get what I came for an’ take off.”

Before Merlin could respond, Valiant was on him. Merlin struggled in the vampire’s grip, his terror rising as Valiant pulled him closer, fisting his hair and pulling his head back to expose his neck. Valiant ducked his head and ran his nose over Merlin’s pulse point.

“You smell…fuckin’ _amazin’_ ,” the vampire hissed. “I’m gonna enjoy this…”

 _Arthur!_ Dammit, if there was any time for that fucking bond to kick in, this was it. Merlin heard the soft _click_ of Valiant’s fangs extending. He struggled harder, bile rising in the back of his throat...

...and heat rising in the pit of his stomach. Valiant's fangs grazed across his skin, and Merlin felt something scalding and fierce uncoil inside of him. He gasped, and Valiant chuckled—“Like that, huh? Fuckin' slut.”—but it wasn't arousal, it was _angry_ and _frightened_ and _strong_...

The heat exploded out of him just as Valiant's fangs broke his skin—the vampire flew backwards, flung off of Merlin by an unseen force, crashing hard against a tree and collapsing to the ground.

Merlin stared, stunned, as Valiant slowly picked himself up. He knew he should…run, or something, but he couldn't move.

“What. The _fuck_. Was that?” the vampire hissed, fear and hatred chasing each other across his face. “You fuckin' whore, I'm gonna rip you apart!”

Merlin braced himself as Valiant lunged—and then there was a blur of motion, and he couldn't see what was happening, and Gwaine's voice was shouting, “Arthur! NO!”

Everything stopped.

At first, Merlin couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. Arthur and Gwaine stood in front of him, Gwaine's hand wrapped around Arthur's throat, nearly lifting the younger vampire off the ground.

“Do you have any idea what you've just done?” Gwaine snarled as Merlin took in the rest of the scene before him.

At Arthur's feet was a bloody heap of gore.

 _Valiant._

Merlin felt his gorge rise.

“You've killed one of your own kind over a _human_ ,” Gwaine hissed. Merlin's eyes snapped back to them, to Arthur's face, blank and impassive, to the the rage in Gwaine's eyes, to the blood dripping from the—fuck, from the _heart_ —clenched in Arthur's fist.

“He broke the law,” Arthur said, voice distorted by Gwaine's grip.

“As did you,” Gwaine snapped, eyes flashing. “You fucking _fool_.”

Arthur's eyes flickered to Merlin, but he said nothing. Gwaine followed his gaze, and Merlin flinched at the anger in his stare.

Then Gwaine released Arthur, shoving him forward towards Merlin. “Say goodbye,” he commanded brutally.

Arthur almost fell into Merlin's arms, pulling Merlin to him and burying his face in Merlin's neck. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I have to go.”

Merlin clutched at him. “What? No! Go where? You were just protectin' me, I don't—”

“Enough.” Gwaine reached out and tore Arthur away, and Merlin fell to his knees.

“Wait! Arthur—”

Arthur stared at him, fear and panic warring on his face, and Gwaine laughed harshly.

“Don't worry, little hawk,” he spat. “I'll take good care of your _boyfriend_. And if I can't...” He pulled Arthur against him and they vanished, Gwaine's parting words echoing in the air:

“...then I'll take good care of _you_.”

  



	9. Chapter 9

“Reckon we're 'bout done here,” Lance said as he finished putting away the last of the glasses. Gwen shot him a smile as she tossed her dirty rag into the sink.

“Looks like. Crazy night, huh?”

He nodded back. “Dunno 'bout you, but I could sure use a drink.”

Gwen laughed. “You're the boss, just take your pick.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah…but it's real nice out tonight, so I was thinkin'…maybe we could have a beer on my porch?”

Gwen stopped laughing and looked away, and Lance's heart sank. Then she glanced back up at him, smiling shyly. “That sounds real good.”

Lance smiled back, and was about to offer her his arm, when her phone rang. Brow creasing, Gwen pulled it out. “Who's callin' me after midnight—Merlin! Shit, slow down, you okay?”

Lance's blood turned to ice as Gwen pressed the phone to her ear. “No, you stay put, Lance an' I'll be right there—”

She glanced at him, as if asking permission, but he already had his keys in his hand.

* * *

Merlin had no idea how long it took Gwen and Lance to get there—he hadn't even been able to move from where he'd collapsed in the middle of the road, and the truck's headlights pierced his eyes like daggers.

“Merlin!” Gwen was out of the truck almost before it had even stopped moving, and Merlin fell into her arms as she dropped down next to him. Lance was right on her heels, kneeling down and reaching out, but stopping awkwardly before he touched Merlin.

“He's gone, Gwen—he killed that vamp an' Gwaine took him away an' I don't know where he went or what's gonna happen to him an' it's all my fuckin' fault, I shoulda stayed at the bar with you an' Lance an'—” He broke off, gasping for air, as panic overwhelmed him.

“Merlin,” Gwen's voice was steady, calm. “Breathe. You gotta calm down, babe. What happened?”

Merlin shuddered. “I was w-walking home an' that asshole vamp from the b-bar _attacked_ me, an' Arthur showed up an' _killed_ him, an' now he's broken Vampire Law so Gwaine took him away because he's the Sheriff an' I don't know what's gonna _happen_ to him—” His voice rose hysterically, and Gwen hugged him tight.

“Shh,” she said. “It's gonna be okay.”

“No, it's _not_ ,” he sobbed. “Gwaine said he'd _take care_ of me, an' I'd rather die—!”

He heard snippets of Gwen's worried thoughts as she exchanged a look with Lance. “Merlin,” she said carefully. “I think you better tell us _exactly_ what's goin' on.”

* * *

Gwen was quiet after they dropped Merlin off at his house. Lance couldn't keep himself from glancing over at her as she sat, chewing her lip and staring straight ahead out the windshield. He was feeling pretty shaken himself—Merlin was in deep shit, bonded to a vamp and God knows what else, but he'd insisted that he'd be safe at home because vamps couldn't come in without his permission, and what he needed more than anything was _quiet_. Lance had felt a rush of guilt when Merlin avoided their eyes; he knew that reading thoughts was stressful at the best of times, but that didn't stop him from wishing he and Gwen could stay with Merlin tonight.

From the look on Gwen's face, she was wishing the same thing. He drove her home by unspoken agreement, neither of them wanting that drink anymore. She smiled at him wanly when he walked her to the door and mumbled something about a rain check, but he could see she was still thinking about Merlin. He nodded in agreement, and made sure she locked the door behind her, before going back to sit in his truck and think.

He couldn't leave Merlin alone tonight, not after all that vamp shit had gone down. Even if fangers couldn't come in without permission, Merlin was in no shape to spend the night by himself.

Lance chewed his lip nervously. Shit. This was probably a fucking stupid idea, but it was the only one he had, and Merlin had never been able to tell before...

Clenching his jaw resolutely, he put the truck in gear and drove away.

* * *

Merlin was sitting on the living room couch with all the lights on, clutching a pillow and trying not to cry, when he heard a scratching at the front door.

He froze, not even daring to breathe, eyes wide as a shadow moved across the wall.

Then he heard a whine, soft and plaintive, followed by a quiet bark.

“Shit.” He knew that bark. But it couldn't be—

Walking over to the window, he peeked out carefully. The stray dog from _Lancelot's_ stood on his porch, tail wagging as he pawed at the door and whimpered. A sudden wave of relief washed over Merlin—he'd never seen the dog this far from the bar, but no way was he gonna look a gift horse in the mouth tonight. He unlocked the door, ready to hurry the dog inside, but the stray was over the threshold before Merlin could even say, “Come in, boy.”

The dog stopped in the middle of his living room and looked up at him, tail wagging as he panted softly. Grinning as tears pricked his eyes, Merlin reached out and patted his head. “Good boy,” he said quietly. The dog barked and licked his hand before stepping forward and pressing against his leg.

Merlin scratched his ears. “I dunno why you took it into your head to come all the way out here tonight, but I'm sure as hell glad you did.”

The dog barked again, and pressed against Merlin's legs, hard enough to make him stumble back.

“Hey, careful!” he laughed. “You big bully.”

Tail still wagging, the dog head-butted him in the thigh. Merlin giggled and took another step backwards, running into the staircase. “I ain't a sheep, you don't gotta herd me,” he chided, starting to climb the stairs to his bedroom. The dog followed at his heels, whuffling happily.

In his room, Merlin shucked off his shirt and jeans and hopped into bed. “C'mon, boy,” he said, patting the quilt next to him. “You can sleep up here, if you want.”

The dog hesitated, and Merlin laughed. “What, you shy, or somethin'?”

Tossing his ears, the dog barked again and jumped up next to Merlin. Merlin rubbed him down, messing up his fur and tickling his belly, and the dog curled up next to him with a happy sigh.

“Sweet dreams, boy,” Merlin smiled as he turned off the light.

* * *

Merlin woke up to the feeling of a solid back pressed up against his. Eyes still closed, he smiled and rolled over—Arthur was usually gone by the time he woke up, so it must still be before dawn. Maybe they'd have time for—

His eyes flew open. Fuck. Arthur. Gwaine. Valiant.

...Lance?

“Shit!” Merlin shot backwards, almost falling off the bed, as his boss blinked up at him sleepily. Then Lance's eyes widened and he jerked back too, falling to the floor in a tangle of blankets that didn't quite hide the fact that he was—

“The _fuck_ , Lance? How the hell did you get in here, an' why are you _naked_?”

Lance blushed _all_ over, and Merlin looked away, cheeks flaming.

“Um,” Lance said.

“Where's that dog?” Merlin grasped desperately for something else to focus on besides his very not-clothed boss, and Lance made a pained noise.

“'Bout that,” he began weakly. “There's somethin' I gotta tell you.”

Merlin just stared at him, flashes of Lance's nervous thoughts speeding through his head as all the pieces came together. “No. Fuckin'. Way.”

Lance winced, and nodded.

Merlin gaped. “I don't fuckin' believe it. You're some kinda…fuckin' _were-puppy_?”

Lance's head jerked up. “I _ain't_ a _were_ ,” he snapped in an offended tone. “They're evil, nasty pieces of work. I'm a… _shifter_.”

Merlin swallowed. “A what? Like, a shape-shifter?”

Squaring his shoulders in a way that made the blanket on his lap slip dangerously low, Lance nodded. “Yep. I can turn into any critter I've ever seen.”

Merlin tore his eyes away from Lance's lap and blinked at him. “That's…wow. That's fuckin' _weird_.”

Lance blinked back, and Merlin felt his lips twitch. A slow smile spread across Lance's face, and he chuckled. “ _You're_ callin' _me_ weird?”

The tension in the room vanished as they both dissolved into laughter.

“Stay put, I'll get you some clothes,” Merlin gasped out between giggles. “Freak.”

* * *

“...an' I wasn't even plannin' on stayin' for the whole night,” Lance said mournfully. “I was gonna high-tail it outta here soon as you fell asleep, but I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“Reckon so,” Merlin agreed with a sigh. They were sitting at his dining room table with steaming cups of coffee, the morning sunlight at odds with the way Merlin's world had just been up-ended. Again. “But honestly, Lance, I'm glad I found out.”

Lance shot him a shy smile. “Me, too.”

Merlin blushed, and looked away. “Does Gwen know?”

Lance flinched. “No.”

“You gonna tell her?”

Lance fidgeted in his seat. “Wasn't fixin' to,” he mumbled.

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell not? She's known 'bout me since we were kids an' never had a problem with it.”

Lance sighed. “Merlin, accidentally trippin' over folks' thoughts is kinda different than bein' able to act out Noah's Arc all by yourself.”

Merlin looked at him thoughtfully. “I dunno, Lance. I think she might actually like it.” Lance glanced up at him warily, and Merlin couldn't help himself.

“She's always wanted a pet,” he grinned.

  



	10. Chapter 10

Morgana couldn't help staring around, wide-eyed, as they entered _Vampelot_. Her grip on Edwin's arm tightened and she could feel him stand up a little straighter; normally, she would have despised him for being so easily influenced, but she was too far gone in the desperation of withdrawal to care.

When Edwin had first told her his plan for getting more V, she'd laughed in his face and told him that it was the fucking dumbest thing she'd ever heard, that _no one_ , especially no vampire, would be that stupid and pathetic, and that they'd just get themselves killed.

But that was before the _cravings_ started.

She'd tried Elyan first, when all she felt was a dull throb of _want_ , but he'd failed her, so she'd gone home and drank herself into a stupor.

When she'd awoken, she'd felt like her insides had been scraped as clean as a hollowed-out pumpkin. She'd barely been able to drive the five minutes to Edwin's, and he hadn't been surprised to see her. He'd been almost unbearably smug, in fact, and she'd found herself agreeing to the plan without hesitation when he brought it up again.

And now they were actually here, and it felt like there was no going back. Edwin found them a table and left her there while he went to order at the bar. Morgana looked around the dark room, trying for casual, but unable to disguise her nervousness.

Everything in the bar was dark—dark wood paneling on the walls, black and red bar stools around the mahogany bar, dark brown tables, dim lighting. But despite the Gothic color scheme, there was still something…Southern, she supposed, about the whole thing. Maybe it was because a good half of the human clientele, and no small fraction of the vamps themselves, were dressed in varying combinations of Levi’s, cowboy boots, and plaid. Maybe it was the way that conversations seemed to slip past her like a lazy river on a hot day. Or maybe it was the way that she felt eyes on her, creeping and invasive, but also distant and removed, like vines of kudzu that wrapped around cypress, oak and pine, gradually choking the life out of them before consuming them completely.

She shivered at the image of the creeping vine, imagining it wrapping around her body ever-so-slowly, crushing her in its inexorable grasp while she dreamed, unable to scream, or cry, or breathe…

“Hello, precious, don't think I've seen you 'round here before.”

Morgana started violently at the low whisper in her ear. Spinning in her seat, she found herself pinned by the stare of a strikingly beautiful blonde vampire. The vampire's lips curved up in a self-satisfied smirk as she raked her eyes over Morgana, licking her lips.

“What brings a _delicious_ morsel like you to my humble little bar?” she purred.

Morgana swallowed convulsively. “Y-your bar? You o-own it?”

The vampire shrugged lazily. “Close enough. I run the damn place while the owner's out engaging in—” Her eyes flickered to Morgana's chest, blatantly tracing from her collarbone up the line of her neck, “— _other_ pursuits.”

Morgana felt herself blushing like she hadn't since she'd been fourteen-years-old and not sure who she'd rather see without any pants, Adam Johnson or Emily Smith, so she'd convinced them both to meet her out behind the automotive lab after school in the name of science…

The vampire's grin deepened and she moved closer, stopping only inches away from Morgana, so Morgana only had to lean forward the slightest bit to—

“Morgana!”

Edwin's sniveling tone jolted her out of her daze, and Morgana shrank back guiltily. Edwin had come up behind her, unnoticed; now, he gripped her elbow almost painfully.

“Nice to meet you, gotta run,” he snapped, pulling Morgana to the bar as she looked back over her shoulder at the vampire. The vampire's eyes followed her unblinkingly, her smile never faltering.

Edwin made an annoyed noise and set her down roughly on a bar stool, and she gasped at the impact. She glared at him, momentarily distracted, before looking back at the vampire—

—who was gone.

Biting back a curse, Morgana turned on Edwin. “The fuck did you do that for? She was totally into me, we coulda got her to come with us, no problem—”

Edwin's mouth twisted unpleasantly. “An’ then we'd both be dead,” he hissed. “You got no idea who the fuck that was, do you?”

Morgana shook her head.

“That was Morgause, one of the fuckin' scariest vamps you'll ever meet,” he whispered. “She runs this place an' I've heard things…” He trailed off.

Morgana frowned. “I still think—”

“Don't bother,” Edwin snapped. “I didn't bring you here to _think._ I brought you here to work your fuckin' charms on some easy vamp so we can get what we need.” Gripping her shoulders roughly, he turned her so she was facing down the bar. “ _That_ one.”

Morgana flinched with disgust. “Him? But he's—”

“Pathetic, I know.” Edwin's voice practically vibrated with satisfaction.

The vampire in question was slight—short, skinny, and awkward in his own skin. A failed attempt at a goatee clung limply to his chin, and his mousy brown hair fell across his eyes as he curled despondently around a bottle of Tru Blood.

“His name's Cedric,” Edwin murmured in his ear. “He was an accountant who got turned to get pussy, 'cept bein' a fanger don't automatically cancel out bein' a loser. Lucky for him, though, you're a newbie fangbanger who'd just _love_ to get to know him better.”

He gave Morgana a shove, and she was off her stool and stalking down the bar before she could register a protest, spurred on by the burning _need_ inside her, and resolutely ignoring the tiny voice screaming in horror at what they were about to do.

* * *

It was almost stupidly funny how easy it'd been to fix things with Lance, Merlin reflected as he walked home from work. The shift he'd just finished had been the most comfortable one he'd had in weeks, with him and Lance not only regaining their former level of friendship, but with any kind of awkward attraction Lance had felt towards him being completely replaced by relief that Merlin accepted who he was.

Well, replaced by Merlin's acceptance and Lance's completely obvious (and growing) fascination with Gwen.

Which, for the record, Merlin supported 110%.

Lance had chickened out (not literally, that would have been weird) when Merlin had tried to shove him in her general direction (quite literally, which had just ended up being kinda awkward). The subsequent tickle fight had only resulted in both of them being too winded to breathe, and Gwen staring at them in bemused exasperation.

All in all, it had almost been enough to distract Merlin from worrying about Arthur.

Almost.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked home, shoulders hunched unhappily. Sure, it had only been a day, but he'd almost thrown up twice with nerves when he'd let himself imagine what could be happening to Arthur. He didn't really like to drink much—made it that much harder to tune out other people's thoughts—but he had some cheap vodka at home that sounded pretty damned good right about now.

He stared down at his feet as he walked, scuffing the dirt disconsolately, which was why he didn't see Gwaine leaning against his front door ‘til he almost ran into him.

“Oh, by all means,” the vampire leered. “ _Touch_ me.”

Merlin jumped back with a yelp, outstretched hand retreating instantly. Gwaine lounged in front of him with his familiar shit-eating grin, completely blocking Merlin's front door.

Merlin scowled at him. “The fuck do you want?”

The vampire's grin widened. “You know _exactly_ what I want, little hawk,” he murmured, deep and low in his throat.

Merlin felt himself blushing, and cursed silently. “Fuck off,” he snapped. “This is my fuckin' house, an' you can't come in 'less I invite you.”

Gwaine looked up at him from beneath his lashes. “But you can't get in unless I move.”

Merlin's eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh. So fuckin' _move_ already.”

Gwaine laughed. “Make me.”

Merlin glared at him. “What, you're gonna trick me into touchin' you to get your ass to move, so you can tell all the other vamps that I touched you first or some shit?”

Gwaine's smile sharpened. “Oh, little hawk,” he hissed, “that's not necessary anymore.”

He surged forward and Merlin staggered back instinctively, pressing against a column at the edge of the porch. Gwaine was close—too close!—his presence forcing Merlin back even more, pinning him against the carved wooden post, making Merlin's mouth run dry.

“S-stop!” Merlin choked out, eyes wide. “Y-you can't touch me! I'm A-Arthur's!”

Gwaine smiled, fangs extended, and dipped his head. Almost, _almost_ , brushing Merlin's neck with his lips, he murmured into Merlin's ear.

“Arthur's dead.”

And Merlin knew, _knew_ , that he didn't just mean "undead".

All the breath left Merlin's body. Everything froze as Gwaine's words pierced into the depths of his heart, freezing his blood.

“N-no,” he gasped. “Y-you're _lyin'._ I'd know, I'd fuckin' _know_ if he—”

“That's not how the bond works.” The glee in Gwaine's voice nearly choked Merlin. “The penalty for killing one of our own kind is the True Death.”

And Merlin didn't even have to ask what _that_ meant, couldn't bear to have Gwaine tell him, couldn't do anything but gasp as he realized the truth of Gwaine's words—he _couldn't_ feel Arthur, had never been able to, had no way to know if—

But.

“You're _lyin'_ ,” he snapped again.

Something dark flashed across Gwaine's features. “I'm not—”

“You fuckin' _bastard_ ,” Merlin hissed. “If Arthur's dead, how come you _still_ ain't touchin' me?”

The vampire's eyes flickered down involuntarily, to the inch of space left between their bodies, before looking back up at Merlin.

“Very clever,” he spat, his mouth twisting angrily. “But I was only trying to spare you the pain of finding out the truth.”

Merlin scoffed at him. “Yeah fuckin' right, like I'm gonna believe you pulled any of this shit to help _me_ out.”

Gwaine backed up slightly, his face shadowed and still. “Believe what you will,” he said quietly, moving to the edge of the porch before Merlin could blink. “But before you decide what you believe, you should carefully considered paying a visit to Pendragon Manor.”

Then he was gone, leaving Merlin alone in the dark as a small seed of doubt began to blossom in his chest.

  



	11. Chapter 11

Merlin didn't want to let Gwaine's words get to him, but the vampire's parting shot rang in his ears all through the rest of the night and the next day as well.

 _You should carefully consider paying a visit to Pendragon Manor._

Merlin was positive that Gwaine's motivations were less than pure; he'd only have said that if he'd thought it could hurt Arthur, or at least Merlin's feelings for him, in some way.

But that just meant there had to be some truth to it, right? Because if Gwaine told him to go to Arthur's home, and he didn't find anything bad there, then he'd just be even more pissed at Gwaine for making him doubt Arthur in the first place.

His stomach clenched. For making him doubt Arthur in the first place...

He was. He was doubting Arthur. He was thinking about what Gwaine said, and wondering if Gwaine was telling the truth, if Arthur was hiding something from him.

Gulping, he clenched his hands into fists. Fuck Gwaine. Now he _had_ to go. And if he found nothing, he'd tell Arthur everything when he got back. He'd say that he was scared, and tired, and couldn't help it. Arthur would forgive him.

Feeling slightly better, he left without locking the door.

* * *

Pendragon Manor, folks said, was haunted. No one had lived there at all in the past 50 years, and the place had fallen into disrepair in the oppressive Southern heat. Arthur had said that it wasn't fit for human company; he lived in the basement, mostly, using it to "go to ground" during the day, while he slowly fixed the rest of the place up at night. Merlin had wanted to see it anyway, but Arthur had seemed embarrassed, so he hadn't pressed.

Now, however, he walked quietly up the long, winding gravel driveway to the front door, trying not to shiver.

The windows were dark, and the door was closed. He raised his hand to knock, but something held him back—stupid to knock when the house was empty, right? He tried the door, but it was locked.

Okay. So he'd just walk around outside, see if he could make out anything through the windows. This was really stupid. It was just an old house, and Arthur hadn't lied to him yet.

That he knew of.

Swallowing, he crept quietly around the perimeter of the house, peeking in the ground-floor windows as he went.

The inside of the house was dark; even with his enhanced vision, he could barely make out the forlorn shapes of furniture placed haphazardly in the rooms, mostly covered with plastic and dust. He'd made it almost all the way around the house without seeing anything out of the ordinary, when he heard something.

"...back in a few hours."

 _Arthur._

Merlin's heart jumped—Arthur was there! He was about to go pound on the window, when—

"But I d-don't want you to go! Can't you stay with me? Please? J-just for tonight?"

A girl's voice.

Merlin froze, hand poised over the glass.

From inside, Arthur made a soft noise. "I'll be back before dawn," he promised gently. "There are some…things...I need to take care of."

Pressing his face to the glass, Merlin was just able to make out the shape of Arthur standing in the middle of what looked like a drawing room, his arms wrapped around a slender figure. The figure—the girl—pressed her face into Arthur's chest and clung to him.

Reeling, Merlin stumbled back from the window. The world seemed to fall away; he felt something inside of him die, a sense of loss so profound he could barely breathe. Eyes filling with tears, he whirled around, staggering blindly back the way he'd come—

—and crashing headfirst into Arthur's solid frame. The vampire's arms wrapped around him, but Merlin shoved him away, the element of surprise rendering Arthur's grip weak.

"G-get _off_ me," Merlin sobbed.

"Merlin—"

"Fuck you! I've been w-worried _sick_ that you were _hurt_ or _dead_ or that I'd never _see_ you again, an' then I c-come out here an' you're with a fuckin' _girl_ —!" His voice cut off in sobs, and Arthur reached for him again.

"Let me explain—"

Merlin avoided his grasp. "Explain _what?_ How you c-can't stay with your _other_ lover because there's _things_ you gotta take care of? _Things_ like me?"

At that moment, the front door opened and the girl appeared on the porch. "Arthur, what's goin' on? I thought you said you—"

She broke off as Merlin glared at her.

She was beautiful, in a graceful, almost fragile way—small, delicate, with big brown eyes and long, dark hair. She looked at Merlin with a sweet, confused expression, and he hated her.

"Oh!" Her hand flew to her mouth. "I—" Her mouth worked silently and she tilted her head, as if... _smelling_...

Merlin stumbled backwards, away from both the girl and Arthur, a split second before she moved. Launching herself at him, she knocked him to the ground and pinned him down, fangs flashing in the moonlight as her pretty face transformed into a mask of pure hunger. He felt a scream rise inside him—

And then she was gone, flying through the air, crashing hard against the side of the house as Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms.

Too stricken to resist, Merlin watched in horror from the safety of Arthur's arms as she picked herself up, licking her lips as her feral stare locked on him again.

"Enough, Freya!" Arthur shouted. "As your Maker, I command you to _be still_!"

She froze completely, eyes still locked on Merlin as he trembled against Arthur's chest.

"This is Merlin," Arthur continued, voice dark with menace. "He's _mine._ You _will not_ touch him."

The girl—vampire— _Freya_ —hissed, and Arthur's grip on Merlin tightened. "That is a _direct_ order."

Freya's mouth snapped shut with a click, but her dark eyes were mutinous as she glared at Arthur.

"Go inside," Arthur ordered, more gently this time. "There's Tru Blood in the fridge. Have as much as you want, and wait for me in the basement."

"But I don't _want_ any more Tru Blood! It's totally gross, an' he smells _so good_ , an' I'm _so hungry_!"

Even as he shuddered at her words, Merlin felt himself gaping at her tone. Shit, she sounded just like Morgana had in high school, when Gaius had told her she couldn't go to prom unless she'd passed every single one of her classes...

Arthur shifted behind Merlin. "It's not up for debate," he said firmly. "Go inside, young lady. _Now_."

Freya glared at him. "Being a vampire _sucks_!" she shouted, completely non-ironically. "I _hate_ you!" Storming away, she pounded up the stairs and slammed the door behind her.

Arthur relaxed slightly and Merlin pulled away, staring at him in disbelief. "Was that a...teenage vampire?"

Arthur's mouth twisted. "Her human age is...was...seventeen, yes." He looked at Merlin, a strange mix of fondness and regret swirling in his eyes. "And she is _not_ my lover."

Merlin looked at him sharply. "What is she, then?"

Arthur bit his lip and looked away. "She's my Child."

Merlin stared at him blankly. "Your what?"

Arthur glanced up at him hesitantly. "My Child. I…made her. Tonight is only her second night as a vampire, and she's a little...excitable."

Merlin's knees gave out and he sank to the ground. "You 'made' her," he repeated dully. "So you killed her."

Arthur flinched, and knelt down next to him, careful not to touch him. "Yes," Arthur said quietly. "I had to."

Merlin hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face between them, not looking at Arthur. "Fuck _that_ ," he said weakly. "What, Tru Blood wasn't enough any more? Needed a fix of somethin' new?"

Arthur shifted. "Vampire justice is harsh," he said quietly.

Merlin flashed him a sharp look. "How's killin' an innocent girl 'justice'?" he spat.

Arthur looked at him solemnly. "It's not, by human standards," he said. "But by our standards..."

Merlin flinched, and looked away.

Arthur was quiet for a moment, before speaking again. "I killed Valiant."

"Yeah, I know, I was kinda _there_ ," Merlin mumbled into his knees.

"The penalty for killing another vampire is—"

"—the True Death?"

Arthur hissed. "How—?"

"Gwaine," Merlin said, bitterness coloring his tone. "He said you were dead."

Arthur was quiet for so long that Merlin looked over at him, only to see his face a still, dark mask of anger.

"Well," Arthur said at last, schooling his features into neutrality, "it was an understandable mistake for him to make. In almost any other circumstance, my...existence...would have been forfeit. But I have...friends...in high places."

Merlin watched him warily, and he continued. "Instead, I was forced to replace Valiant by turning a human. Freya was brought to me; I had no say in the matter."

"You could've said 'fuck off'."

Arthur looked at him seriously. "They would have killed me, and then they would have come for you."

Merlin looked away, stomach twisting.

"Her family was very religious," Arthur said quietly. "We stopped there earlier tonight so she could gather some things, and her father tried to set her on fire."

Merlin flinched, not wanting to listen, but Arthur continued. "They used to tell her she was a monster, that she was cursed, whenever she disobeyed. They beat her."

"So what? Bein' a vamp's better than bein' beat up at home?" Merlin sneered.

Arthur ducked his head. "That's not what I'm saying. Just that...maybe it's not all bad."

Feeling sick to his stomach, Merlin rose. Arthur was beside him instantly, but Merlin shied away.

"This is fucked up," he stated. "I'm glad you're ali—back, but I need—I need to be alone right now."

Arthur's face shuttered, and he nodded once. "I understand," he said softly.

Merlin turned and left without another word, somehow managing not to look back as Arthur's eyes followed him into the dark.

* * *

Merlin really should have been expecting it, he supposed, but he still jumped when Gwaine peeled himself away from the shadows of Merlin's porch with a grin. Too tired to snap at the vampire, he just closed his eyes and sighed.

"Will you _please_ fuck off?" he asked, just in case.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Gwaine purred. "Pendragon Manor is full of secrets."

Merlin glared at him. "Don't be so dramatic. It's none of your business, anyways."

Gwaine leered back. "Oh, I think Arthur's new plaything is very much my business. She _is_ a new vampire in my territory, after all."

Merlin bristled. "She's not a playthin', she's his...I dunno, his daughter, or somethin'."

"And why do you think we make 'Children' in the first place?" Gwaine laughed.

Merlin stared at him. "No. No way. He didn't even _want_ to turn her—"

Gwaine made an amused noise. "Oh, I'm sure that's what he wants you to believe," he said with false sympathy. "But you saw the girl...she's quite enticing, isn't she?"

Merlin gulped. "How do—"

"I was there." Gwaine's smile could cut glass. "I stood witness to Arthur's so-called punishment, and I can tell you that his expression as he drained her limp body was _anything_ but reluctant. He took her away almost indecently fast, afterward."

Merlin felt bile rise in the back of his throat. "S-she's only seventeen."

"Yes...young and beautiful for all eternity. I think that's quite appealing, don't you?"

"Arthur wouldn't," Merlin protested, more to himself than to Gwaine. "He _wouldn't_."

The vampire crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at him. "Oh, but he would. In fact, he probably already _has._ Why else wouldn't he have come straight to you when he returned?"

Merlin shook his head in denial, but Gwaine's words slithered inside him, making his blood run cold.

"He could have kept her hidden up there forever," Gwaine continued, satisfaction coloring his tone. "If you hadn't surprised him, you never would have known about her at all. You. Can't. Trust. Him."

The image of Freya wrapped in Arthur's arms flashed across his vision unbidden, and Merlin choked.

"But I can trust _you_?" he snapped.

"Of course." Gwaine's fangs gleamed against his lips. "I'm a simple creature with simple desires. You can trust me to do whatever is necessary to fulfill those desires." He took a small step forward, eyes locking on Merlin's. "What is it that you desire, Merlin?"

His voice was low, intimate, inviting, and Merlin shivered. For a moment he was almost tempted to give in, to be done with Arthur completely, to surrender to Gwaine and let him have his way...it would be so much easier, and he knew Gwaine would have no qualms about fucking him any way he wanted...

But getting that involved with another vampire, especially one as freaky as Gwaine, was definitely too high a price to pay.

He rolled his eyes. "Nice try," he said sarcastically. At Gwaine's startled expression, he took a wild guess: "But I'm pretty sure tryin' to glamour me breaks some vampire law or other."

Gwaine recovered quickly. "It doesn't matter, since it didn't work." He shot Merlin an unreadable glance. "You really are a fascinating creature, Merlin Emrys."

Merlin glared at him. "'M not a 'creature'." Stepping around Gwaine, he pushed his front door open.

"Goodnight, little hawk," Gwaine murmured in his ear just before he stepped inside.

"Fuck you, Gwaine," he responded pleasantly, and slammed the door in the vampire's face.

  



	12. Chapter 12

Arthur was standing in the middle of the parking lot when Merlin left work the next night, and Merlin felt his chest seize up at the sight. Arthur walked over to him slowly, carefully, like Merlin was about to bolt, and Merlin could see the cautious hope in his eyes as he got closer.

"I didn't want to corner you at work," Arthur said quietly, stopping just in front of Merlin. "But I had to see you. May I walk you home?"

The 'yes' was on the tip of Merlin's tongue, when Gwaine's words flashed through his mind.

 _Why do you think we make our 'Children' in the first place?_

Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked at Arthur steadily. “Did you fuck Freya?”

Arthur started, eyes widening in shock. “What? No! She's just a child—how could you even _think_ —”

A tiny burst of hope flared up in Merlin's chest at the strength of Arthur's reaction, but—

“She ain't just a child, she's your _Child_ , an' apparently _that_ means—”

“Did you talk to Gwaine again?” The menace in Arthur's low voice made Merlin flinch.

“So what if I did?” he asked defiantly. “I know he's prob'ly a lyin' sack of shit, but you gotta admit this whole Child thing sounds fuckin' sketchy, an' she's real pretty an' helpless—”

Arthur took a step forward, face dark with emotion. “I would never— _will_ never—touch Freya in a sexual manner,” he said, his tone making the hair on the back of Merlin's neck stand up. “I know you may not believe me, but she's—” He stopped.

“She's _seventeen_ ,” he said after a moment, and Merlin frowned.

“She won't always be,” he snapped.

“She's a _girl_ ,” Arthur continued, ignoring Merlin's words, but giving him a significant look. Merlin felt his face flush as Arthur's gaze dropped blatantly down to his crotch, before snapping back up to his eyes.

“And she's not _you_ ,” Arthur finished quietly, stepping forward so they were almost touching.

"Oh.” Merlin swallowed, feeling warm all over. He wanted to believe Arthur _so much_ —and fuck Gwaine, really. He licked his lips. “Okay, then. You can walk me home."

Merlin started off and Arthur followed, walking next to him, but still not touching. Arthur's nearness made Merlin's skin tingle, and he wanted to reach out—

So he did.

He felt Arthur start slightly, then relax, as Merlin laced their fingers together.

"I wanna be pissed at you," Merlin said conversationally. "But I guess it wasn't really your fault, huh?"

Arthur squeezed his hand. "If there had been any other way..."

Merlin squeezed back. "It's still fucked up," he said. "But I think I'm kinda gettin' used to that, by now."

He glanced at Arthur out of the corner of his eye, and saw the vampire turn his head to hide a smile. "I'm glad."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and by the time they reached his house, Merlin had made a decision.

"Actually," he said as Arthur walked him up the porch stairs, "I think Gwaine might be right."

Arthur stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"He said that you're hidin' things from me, that I can't trust you." Merlin turned to face Arthur, still holding his hand. "Maybe you ain't, but how do I _know?_ How do I know if I can trust you, when I don't know anythin' about you?"

His eyes searched Arthur's shadowed face, and the vampire bit his lip.

"What do you want to know?" he asked after a moment.

"Whatta you wanna tell me?"

Arthur ducked his head. "Nothing. Everything. I don't know."

Merlin pulled on Arthur's hand. "C'mon." He opened the door, and Arthur followed him inside.

Without speaking again, Merlin led Arthur upstairs to his bedroom. Arthur watched him uncertainly as Merlin took off his clothes first, and then started on Arthur's. He batted Arthur's hands away when the vampire tried to participate, and Arthur let his arms hang limply at his sides.

When they were both naked, Merlin pulled Arthur onto the bed and maneuvered him onto his back. Tucking himself under Arthur's arm, he nestled his head under Arthur's chin and wrapped an arm around Arthur's chest.

"I just wanna know who you are," Merlin said quietly, once he'd settled into place.

Arthur shifted underneath him, pulling Merlin more snugly against his side. He was quiet for a long moment, and Merlin counted his own heartbeats. Just as his eyes were beginning to close, Arthur began.

"My mother died giving birth to me," he said softly. "I don't remember it, obviously, but my father said something went wrong, and she just...bled out."

Merlin slid his arm down to wrap it around Arthur's waist, offering wordless comfort, as Arthur continued. "Uther Pendragon, my father, had always been a religious man, or so I was told, but after my mother's death, he was nearly fanatical." Arthur's voice grew stronger as he warmed to the subject. "He railed against sin and deviancy in all forms, and controlled every part of my life from the time I was born until I enlisted."

"That must've sucked," Merlin murmured, looking up into Arthur's face. Arthur stared up at the ceiling, expressionless, and nodded.

"I suppose it did, but I never knew anything else. I went to the right schools, I spent time with the right young men, I courted the right young women. We were very, very rich, you see, and my father made sure I knew exactly how I was expected to behave." He paused. "The only way I rebelled against him was by befriending my fencing coach, Leon. Father never would have approved, but he didn't know. And when Leon decided to go defend our homes from Northern oppression, I followed."

He laughed softly, bitterly. "Father told me that if I put on that uniform, I'd be dead to him. I don't think he meant quite what he got, however."

He stopped again, ducking his head to bury his nose in Merlin's hair, and Merlin felt a pang of guilt. "You can stop, if you want," he offered.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I _want_ to tell you," he said, almost as though he couldn't quite believe it himself. "Anyhow. I made it through the war, but Leon didn't, and neither did any of the friends I made while serving. When we lost, I didn't know what to do. I think I wandered the country for a bit—it's all kind of a blur, now—but I finally made my way home." Merlin could feel Arthur's mouth twist. "Father wasn't happy to see me."

"He wasn't happy that you were alive?" Merlin couldn't believe it.

Arthur shrugged. "Maybe, deep down. But he let me know in no uncertain terms that he was allowing me to live in his house out of nothing more than his Christian duty, and that if I stepped out of line once, he would throw me out."

" _That_ must have sucked," Merlin said with feeling.

Arthur stroked his hand over Merlin's hip absently. "Yes. That time, it did. I'd tasted freedom—well, of a sort, anyway—in the army, and it rankled, coming back to his rules and censure. But I was so grateful to have a place to live, when so many had lost everything, that I tried to do as he demanded."

"I'm guessing it didn't work out, though, huh?"

Arthur shook his head. "I managed for nearly four years before it became too much. Then one night, I shouted at him, told him _I_ was done with _him_ , that I'd risked my life for my country while he'd sat, locked away like a dragon hoarding his gold, and that if I wanted a damned beer in the evening, then by God I was going to go down to the town and have one."

Merlin chuckled before he could help himself—he could just see an impetuous Arthur, eyes flashing as he stood his ground against his father's tyranny.

Arthur chuckled weakly as well. "One beer turned into two, then four, and...I don't remember much of the rest of the night, only...I thought she was in trouble, so I went to help, and there was so much _pain_ and I couldn't breathe…and then I was clawing my way out of the ground and falling into her arms in the middle of the cemetery."

Merlin stiffened. "That's when you got turned?"

Arthur nodded. "She held me, and told me that she'd seen me stagger out of the bar, and hadn't been able to help herself. Then she told me she knew how to make the hunger go away, and I followed her through the night."

Merlin gulped, swallowing down the sick feeling that he knew what was coming next.

"I didn't even realize she'd taken me to my own home until our servant Geoffrey opened the door. When my father saw me, he looked like hell—I'd been missing for an entire day, or so I found out later. Then he saw _her_ , and it was like every demon from hell had been released in front of him."

Arthur paused, and a shudder wracked his body. Merlin held him tight, willing him the strength to go on.

"She told me to feed," Arthur said in a soft voice. "The last memory I have of my father is him begging God to save my soul as I drained him dry."

He stopped, shaking, and Merlin stroked his face. "It's okay," he whispered, even though it wasn't. "It was so long ago. You ain't like that anymore."

Arthur looked down at him, bloody tear-tracks standing out in stark relief against his pale cheeks. "No," he said shakily. "I'm not. And Freya won't be, either." He sank back down onto the bed. "Years later, after one of our more bitter fights, I asked my Maker what I'd ever done to be punished like this, to be condemned to this undead purgatory. So she told me the truth about my birth."

Merlin held his breath.

Arthur closed his eyes. "My mother had been the complete opposite of my father, light where he was dark, loving where he was cold, compassionate where he was righteous. Ni—my Maker had seen her leaving an evening church service, and had fallen in love with her. She befriended my mother against my father's wishes, but everyone always said my father never could deny my mother anything. My mother never knew that the rich, intelligent, beautiful new arrival in town was a vampire, only that her skin was so sensitive to sunlight that she avoided it as much as possible."

Another tear of blood ran down Arthur's cheek, and Merlin fought the urge to reach up and wipe it away, not wanting to distract Arthur from his story.

"When my mother was giving birth to me, my Maker was there. Father came into the birthing room just in time to see her giving my mother her blood, trying to save both our lives. Father went mad, called her a demon, chased her from the room with silver before she'd given my mother enough. So my mother died anyway, and Father earned the undying hatred of a vampire."

"And she waited, all those years, for you—?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes. She finally took her revenge when she thought it would hurt him the most—he'd already lost me once, and we'd just fought. He and I both knew that I was slipping away, and she wanted him to die knowing our last time together had been one of anger and hate."

He stopped again, and Merlin knew without asking that he was finished. Rolling on top of Arthur, he cradled Arthur's face in his hands and brushed his lips over Arthur's mouth, gentle and sweet. Arthur made a soft noise and pulled Merlin down against him, eyes fluttering shut as his lips parted underneath Merlin's tongue.

Merlin kissed him slowly, deeply, noticing the way Arthur trembled under him. The strain of allowing himself to be so vulnerable coursed through Arthur's muscles and made his entire body shake; Merlin touched him like he was made of glass and Arthur's legs opened, allowing Merlin to nestle between them and press their bodies together.

When Merlin finally pulled back, Arthur looked up at him, dazed and raw, an expression of such openness and trust on his face that Merlin could barely breathe.

"Arthur," he whispered around the tightness in his throat, "I want—"

"Anything," Arthur said softly, one hand coming up to brush Merlin's hair out of his eyes. "Anything at all."

Merlin stared into his eyes. "I want you to fuck me."

Arthur's hand stilled in his hair, but Merlin didn't back down.

"You won't lose control," he murmured, dipping down to capture Arthur's lips. Arthur's brow furrowed, but he returned the kiss. Merlin pulled away again.

"An' even if you did lose control..." He paused, hesitating for the barest second, "...that would be okay, too," he finished in a rush.

"Merlin—" Doubt colored Arthur's tone even has his hands were gentle on Merlin's skin.

"I want you to bite me," Merlin whispered, ducking his head and burying his face in Arthur's neck. Arthur's arms wrapped around him instinctively as Merlin rubbed against him, heat beginning to pool under his skin. "I was so scared, an' I thought I'd lost you...I _want_ this, Arthur. I want _you._ I need to—to feel you _inside_ me—" his breath hitched and Arthur's hands clenched convulsively on his skin.

"I need this," Merlin said again, breath ghosting over Arthur's neck. " _Please_ , Arthur. I _need_ this."

Merlin felt the moment that Arthur gave in, felt the tiny release of tension from his body as he let go. Wrapping one hand around the back of Merlin's neck, he pulled Merlin down into a deep, wet kiss, his tongue sliding into Merlin's mouth as Merlin gasped.

Arthur released Merlin after a long moment. “Supplies,” he said hoarsely, and Merlin crawled shakily to the bedside table. STDs weren't an issue with the undead, and vampire cum was essentially clear plasma (which was way better than being blood like their tears, in Merlin's opinion), so they'd never bothered with condoms.

Returning with the half-empty bottle of lube, Merlin collapsed back down on top of Arthur and Arthur slotted their groins together, before slathering his fingers with lube and reaching behind Merlin to spread him open wide.

Merlin shuddered, plunging his face into Arthur's neck, as the tip of Arthur's finger traced his entrance. The lube was cool against his skin and he could barely keep from pushing back against Arthur's hand as the vampire touched him just enough to tease. They'd tried fingering before, with Arthur sometimes sliding two wet, slippery fingers inside as he sucked Merlin off, but this was different—this was _going_ somewhere, tonight.

When Arthur slowly pressed his finger in, Merlin moaned into his skin. Unable to keep still, he rocked against Arthur as the vampire pressed a second, and a third, finger into him, massaging him gently and stretching him open a fraction at a time.

When Merlin was almost gone with the feeling of Arthur's fingers in him, Arthur stopped and withdrew, sliding a pliant and boneless Merlin off of him and down onto his side, pulling Merlin close so that Merlin's back was flush up against Arthur's front. Arthur pushed Merlin's top leg forward and tucked his own leg up behind it, and Merlin gasped as Arthur's cock pressed gently against his entrance.

“D-don't I gotta be on my b-back, or k-knees, or somethin'?” Merlin stammered.

Arthur nuzzled a kiss into his shoulder. “Next time,” he promised. Then, lining himself up, he pushed inside Merlin, slow and burning and so very sweet. Merlin felt himself go completely tense, before melting back against Arthur's chest as the vampire entered him entirely.

“Oh, God,” Merlin moaned as Arthur shifted slightly inside him—it was like he felt the movement in the depths of his _soul_. Arthur filled him, possessed him.

Completed him.

He nearly choked on the ridiculousness of his own thoughts, but then Arthur pulled out slightly and pushed back in, and all thoughts were lost in the feeling of Arthur inside him, pressing into the deepest parts of him and carrying him up on wave after wave of impossible pleasure.

When he came, it was like rising on a tide of heat, slow and steady and overwhelming, leaving him pulsing his release out between Arthur's fingers as the vampire stroked him. Arthur shuddered into him a moment later, while Merlin was still dazed and speechless, and they sank down into the bed together.

“That—I—” Merlin couldn't even begin to make sense, and Arthur chuckled softly into his shoulder.

“Sleep,” he whispered, pulling Merlin back against him, his cock still buried deep.

Merlin shivered, craning his head back for a sloppy kiss, before his eyes slowly fell closed.

* * *

“You didn't bite me.” Merlin couldn't keep the disappointment out of his tone as he explored his neck with his fingers. Dawn was barely an hour away, and he lay in Arthur's arms, reveling in the feeling of soreness that throbbed inside him.

“I know,” Arthur murmured.

“I wanted you to.”

Arthur held him close and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I didn't want to.”

Merlin frowned unhappily. “Even though I said it was okay?”

“I don't—” Arthur paused. “I don't want this to be about blood any more than it already is.”

“Whatta you—oh.” The bond. For what must have been the first time, Merlin had completely forgotten about the bond. “Oh,” he said again.

Arthur pressed a kiss into his neck. “Someday,” he said huskily. “When we're—when it's not just about the...”

He trailed off in favor of claiming Merlin's mouth, and Merlin let himself be claimed, remembering the feel of Arthur trembling under him after finishing his story, and fighting back the uncomfortable knowledge that, for him, it was already about so much more than just the blood.

  



	13. Chapter 13

"Cedric?" Morgana opened the door to the basement hesitantly, peering down into the dark. "I've got somethin' for you."

She heard a soft moan and the clinking of metal on metal, and switched on the light.

"Edwin's out," she said as she walked down the stairs. "So we gotta be quick."

The vampire lay stretched out on a metal lawn lounge chair, chained in place with strands of silver. His face was so pale that it looked grey; his head lolled listlessly to the side, and his eyes were dim and glazed.

"This'll make you feel better," Morgana said as she unscrewed the top of the bottle in her hand. "AB+. You said it was your favorite."

She held the Tru Blood up to Cedric's lips, but he made no move to drink.

"C'mon, Cedric," she said gently. "You ain't had anythin' since the bar, and that was almost a week ago. Drink it. Please?"

Cedric's eyelids fluttered shut. "Why do you care?" he croaked. "Need me to drink so you can take more of my blood?"

Morgana swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I don't—I mean, I think we got enough for a long time, an' I...just drink, okay?"

Cracking one eye open, Cedric looked at her sadly. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "No one'd ever believe you could be this cruel."

Morgana's hands were shaking so badly that she almost dropped the bottle. "I didn't want this to happen," she whispered. "But he—he said that if we let you go—"

"I won't. I won't say _anythin'_." Cedric's eyes opened wide, pleading. "I _swear_. Just—just let me go. _Please_." His voice cut off in a sob.

"I _can't_." Morgana's voice quavered. "He'll _kill_ me."

They both knew it was true.

After a silent moment, Morgana pressed the bottle to Cedric's lips again. Tears of blood trickling down his cheeks, Cedric opened his mouth and drank.

* * *

"And do they always come true?"

Some color had returned to Cedric's cheeks, and his eyes had lost their dull sheen. He'd managed to finish three bottles of Tru Blood, and his eyes were fixed on Morgana as she perched by his feet on the end of the lawn chair.

Morgana shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe they do, an' I just don't see it. Or notice it. Sometimes it's real obvious, though."

"And none of this happened before you started doin' V?"

"Nope." She blushed and looked away. "It's kinda funny. My brother—he's always been the special one. I looked out for him when we were growin' up, an' I know how much it sucked for him sometimes, but I always kinda wished that...I was special, too."

"Morgana." Cedric's voice was serious. "You don't gotta take V to be special."

Morgana shot him a glance. "You were an accountant, right?"

Cedric winced. "Still am. Different clientele now, though."

"An' you got yourself turned because...?"

Cedric grinned at her sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. Hypocrite."

Morgana grinned back hesitantly and put a hand on his ankle. " _I_ don't think you're a loser."

Cedric's mouth twisted and he looked away. "Yeah, right. If I wasn't a vamp, a girl like you'd never even look at me twice."

Morgana bit her lip. "Prob'ly not," she admitted. "But...as it turns out, I don't got such great taste in men." She broke off, realizing she'd been rubbing circles on his ankle, and blushed.

Cedric looked at her, his eyes dark. "If I...if you..." He stopped. "I'd never treat you like he does," he said quietly.

Morgana let go of his ankle and wrapped her arms around herself. "It's not so bad," she said. "I really don't mind. I'm always high when we... and the visions make it worth it. It's not like he hits me, or anythin'."

Cedric snorted. "You realize that if not bein' hit's the best thing you can say for your relationship, then somethin's seriously fucked up, right?"

"I know." Morgana's voice was a whisper. "But I need—I need the V. I need the visions. An' it's illegal now, so it's not I like can just go an' get more...I _need_ him."

Cedric looked up at her. "You really don't," he said, just as quietly.

Before Morgana could respond, the door at the top of the stairs slammed open. "What's goin' on down there?"

"Shit!" Morgana hissed, jumping up off the chair. "Nothin'!" she called out. "Just checkin' on Cedric."

"He still 'alive'?" Edwin laughed at his own words.

"Yeah." She heard Edwin's footsteps on the stairs. "You don't gotta come down, I was just headin' up."

She flinched as Edwin entered the room, his eyes immediately flickering to Cedric's revived appearance, before falling on the empty bottles of Tru Blood on the floor.

"The fuck. Is this?" His voice was quiet, cold, and Morgana's heart started to pound.

"Nothin'," she said quickly. "I just thought we'd get more outta him if we put some back in."

Edwin's eyes glittered as he stared at her. "Three bottles?"

Morgana swallowed. "He was hungry?"

Edwin closed the distance between them, pushing her back against the wall.

"Stop it!" she choked out. "Get the fuck off me!"

Mouth twisting in a snarl, Edwin turned her head to the side. "Did you let him bite you, too?" he spat as his eyes raked over her neck.

"What?" Morgana struggled in his grip. "No! _Get off_!"

"Don't think I ain't been seein' what's goin' on here," Edwin hissed in her ear. "How you've been gettin' all cozy with this fuckin' _animal_."

"He's not an animal!" she shot back, and Edwin whirled away with a growl.

"He's a fuckin' rabid dog!" he shouted. "They _all_ are! All they wanna do is kill us all, eat every single one of us ‘til there's no one left, an' then they'll prob'ly turn on each other—" Casting around, he caught sight of a wooden rake. Snatching it up, he snapped the handle over his knee and advanced on Cedric. The vampire's eyes widened and he struggled in his chains—Morgana stood, frozen, unable to believe Edwin would—

"—an’ here you are, _feedin'_ him an' _talkin'_ to him an' spendin' time down here with him, an’ you can hardly even _look_ at me when we ain't high—"

"Edwin! Stop!" Terror welled up in her stomach, and Morgana launched herself at him. He threw her off with a snarl, and she crashed hard against the wall. She slid to the floor, stunned, as he raised the snapped-off end of the rake into the air.

"Fuck you, _fanger_ ," he hissed, before plunging it down into Cedric's heart.

Cedric screamed, and exploded into a fountain of blood.

When Morgana finished vomiting, she looked up at Edwin in shock. His eyes were fixed on the ruined mass of gore on the lawn chair.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," he said weakly.

* * *

Gwaine showed up on his doorstep just as Elyan was leaving for his evening shift.

"I can't—I gotta go—" Elyan stammered, looking everywhere but at the vampire as Gwaine gripped his hips and walked him backwards over the threshold.

"Then we'd better make this quick," Gwaine purred in his ear, pushing him up against the wall. Elyan struggled weakly, but the vampire ignored him.

"Do you know what day today is?" he asked, pressing a knee between Elyan's legs.

"The—ah!—the 29th?"

"Ver-r-y good." Gwaine's knee pushed up, and Elyan moaned. "Which means it's almost the end of the month."

He leaned forward and nipped Elyan's neck. "Which means it's time to go over my books," he purred. "Which means I require an accountant."

"W-what's t-that got to d-do with me?" Elyan gasped. "I'm n-not—"

" _Obviously_ ," Gwaine snapped, irritation coloring his tone. "I _have_ an accountant. Or at least, I _had_ an accountant. Before he went missing." One hand snaked up to wrap around Elyan's throat, and Elyan's pulse quickened.

"I d-don't—" he choked out.

"He makes a rather pathetic vampire, but my accountant is _very_ good with numbers," Gwaine said calmly. "I really can't find another on such short notice. Which brings me to you."

His hand constricted around Elyan's neck, and Elyan saw stars.

“Morgause informs me that he was last seen leaving my bar in the company of two humans—a blonde man with a scarred face, and a beautiful woman with long, dark hair," Gwaine hissed. "And since you know practically everyone in this pathetic excuse for a town, you are going to tell me how to find them."

Elyan's blood froze. _Edwin. Morgana._ Shit. What the fuck were they _thinking?_

Gwaine's eyes scanned Elyan's face, and he smiled viciously. "I see that rings a bell. Excellent."

"I d-don't know what you're t-talking about," Elyan protested.

Gwaine caught his gaze, and Elyan felt something soft and warm wash over him.

"Oh, but I think you do..." Gwaine said with a smile. "And you always tell me _exactly_ what I want to know, don't you, Elyan?"

* * *

The only reason Morgana wasn't vomiting anymore was that she had nothing left in her stomach. Covered in blood, she helped Edwin drag the garbage bag filled with Cedric's remains out the back door and across the lawn; it left a dark, wet trail on the grass, and she dry-heaved as they wrestled the bag into the trash can.

"Put some rocks on top. Don't want a dog gettin' into it," Edwin ordered as he slammed the lid shut.

With shaking hands, Morgana piled several large stones on top of the can, stomach roiling as the stench of blood and gore filled the humid night air.

"Fuck, Edwin, someone's gonna notice," she gasped.

He scowled at her. "Then we ain't leaving it here. Come on, let's get it into my truck. We'll take it to the river an' dump the whole thing."

They'd just started to drag the unwieldy metal can across the lawn, when—

"Going somewhere?"

The low, smooth voice oozed out of the dark directly behind them, and Morgana yelped. Letting go of the can, she whirled around to see a tall man with dark a hair watching them, eyes flashing with amusement.

"Looks like you could use a hand with that," the man said. His lips parted in a slow smile, and Morgana stumbled backwards as his fangs gleamed in the moonlight.

Edwin dropped the can with a curse and took off running towards the house, with Morgana right behind. The vampire barked out a laugh, and she screamed as she was struck from behind. She fell, hard, into the grass, but the vampire didn't follow her down—raising her head, she saw him lift Edwin up by his throat. Edwin's feet kicked against the air, and the vampire laughed again.

"I believe this conversation would be best held inside," he said pleasantly. "Why don't you go ahead and invite me in?"

Edwin made a gurgling noise, and the vampire lowered him until their faces were almost touching.

"Invite me in," he said in a soft voice.

"C-come in," Edwin gasped.

Morgana held completely still—maybe he'd forget about her, and she could run for it once they were inside—

Then the vampire was in front of her, beaming down at her as Edwin dangled limply in his grasp.

"You too, my dear," he said as he extended his hand politely.

Trembling all over and too terrified to refuse, Morgana took his hand. His grip was iron-tight as he pulled her and Edwin into the house.

* * *

Once inside, the vampire threw Morgana onto the floor. "Don't run," he said gently, patting her on the head. She flinched away, and he grinned at her. Edwin was still limp in his hand, and the vampire lifted him easily.

"Now," he said, turning his attention away from Morgana. "Am I correct in assuming that my former employee, Cedric, is the unfortunate occupant of that _aromatic_ trash can?"

Edwin nodded agreeably, unable to speak around the vampire's grip on his throat.

"I'm sure it was an accident," the vampire said sympathetically. "Why don't you just tell me what happened, and we can get this all sorted out?" He stared at Edwin directly and Edwin stared back, eyes wide with something almost like reverence. Morgana shivered, biting her tongue to keep from screaming out to him to stay quiet—couldn't he tell that the vamp was just gonna kill them both anyway?

The vampire set Edwin down and made an encouraging noise. "Go ahead."

Eyes never leaving the vampire's, Edwin spoke as though in a daze. Morgana cowered, frozen with terror, as he told the vampire how they'd lured Cedric away from the bar with insinuations of blood, sex and friendship; how they'd bound him with silver and drained him almost dry for a week; how they'd starved him and kept him helpless until—

"... An' then I get back an' the fanger's tryin' to get my fuckin' girlfriend to let him go. So I killed him."

"How did you kill him?" The vampire's voice was soft.

"Stabbed the bastard through the heart."

"While he was chained. I see." The vampire reached out and gripped Edwin's shoulder. Pulling him close, he turned Edwin so that Edwin's back was pressed against his chest. Cradling Edwin's chin in one hand, he stroked Edwin's hair with the other.

"Thank you for your honesty," the vampire said, and Edwin smiled up at him.

Then there was a flash of movement, and a sickening _crack_ , and Edwin's limp body collapsed to the floor, head lolling on his neck at an unnatural angle.

Morgana couldn't hold back her scream.

"Shh." The vampire was on her in a flash, catching her wrists as she tried to push him away and pressing her down into the rug. Breath coming in sobs, Morgana screwed her eyes shut and tried to twist away, but the vampire pinned her in place.

"Hush, now," he whispered in her ear. "I'm not going to kill you."

"F-fuck _off_ ," she gasped, struggling uselessly against him.

The vampire huffed a laugh in her ear. "I seem to be hearing that a lot, lately," he murmured. "It must run in the family."

Morgana froze. He couldn't mean Merlin?

The vampire laughed again. "Even without a...mutual friend's…assurance that the two of you are related, your resemblance to a one Mr. Emrys is striking," he purred. "Pity you don't smell nearly as delectable as he does." He sighed theatrically, before rising in one swift motion and pulling her up after him. Her eyes snapped open in shock, but she averted them quickly, avoiding his gaze.

"A fast learner, as well." His voice dripped with amusement. "Excellent." He pulled her into his arms and smiled against her hair. "You are quite appealing, my dear, but my Child was rather taken with you when she met you in the bar, and she's been terribly bored ever since we came to this ridiculous little town of yours. What kind of Maker would I be if I sampled her present before giving it to her?"

Morgana whimpered, and the vampire caressed her cheek. "Don't worry, little one," he said reassuringly. "I won't let her kill you either. You may prove quite useful to me _very_ soon."

Morgana's scream of terror echoed in the air behind them as they vanished.

  



	14. Chapter 14

Merlin broke three glasses in the first hour of his shift, and no one noticed. Gwen and Lance were acting even more distracted by each other than usual, and Elyan hadn't come out of the kitchen once yet. Merlin scowled as he swept up yet another pile of shards and wished, for what must have been the first time in his life, that people were paying more attention to him for acting strangely.

Morgana had been incommunicado for three days.

Merlin couldn't bring himself to say, or even think, "missing”. His sister wasn't the most reliable person at the best of times, and with as weird as she'd been acting since...pretty much since he'd met Arthur, actually, it wasn't that strange that she hadn't been around.

But she always, always answered his texts. She might get back to him hours later, drunk off her ass, but she _always_ got back to him. They were the only family they had left, and that was that.

He'd texted her five times over the past three days, at first to talk about finances, and then to check in out of worry, but he'd heard nothing in response.

He sighed heavily as he emptied the dustpan into the garbage, and Gwen finally noticed.

"What's up?" she asked, dropping off a tray of dirty dishes and coming over to him.

"It's Morgana. She ain't been textin' me back, an' I got no idea where she is."

Gwen looked startled for a moment, then blushed. "Oh. Guess I didn't notice."

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at her as she carefully didn't look him in the eye. "Other things on your mind?" he teased, nodding over towards Lance.

Gwen turned away, but not before he saw her go even redder. "Maybe," she mumbled.

Merlin nudged her with his shoulder. "You should go for it," he said quietly. "For real. Trust me."

Gwen shot him a sharp, but hopeful look. "Why? You, uh, _hear_ somethin'?"

He winked at her. "Nope. But I got my sources."

She stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed another order, leaving him alone behind the bar. He grinned after her, but his smile faded quickly.

“Hey, Merlin?” Elyan's voice was strangely hesitant behind him, and Merlin turned to the serving window next to the bar. Elyan leaned on the ledge, looking at him with an uncharacteristically somber expression.

“You worried 'bout Morgana?” he asked.

Merlin nodded. “Yeah. Ain't heard from her for a while. It's prob'ly nothin', but I can't help it...”

Elyan's brow furrowed. “Naw, I hear you. It's weird, I feel like I should know somethin'…” He trailed off, and shrugged. “You ever get the feelin' you're forgettin' somethin' important?” he asked with an awkward laugh.

Merlin wrinkled his nose and grinned. “Yeah, all the time. Sucks.”

Elyan laughed again. “Yeah. Hey, I'll ask around, keep an eye out. She'll turn up.”

Merlin sighed. “I know. Thanks, Elyan.”

Elyan gave him a wave and went back into the kitchen, and Merlin began the familiar countdown to the end of his shift.

* * *

Arthur noticed as soon as he crawled into bed next to Merlin. He'd told Merlin that he'd be out on vampire business again, and Merlin hadn't gotten his hopes up about seeing him that night at all; when the mattress dipped under the vampire's weight, he rolled over and buried his face in Arthur's shirt.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Arthur sank down onto the bed and wrapped Merlin in his arms.

“Morgana's missing,” Merlin mumbled into his chest. “She's been actin' real weird lately, and now she ain't textin' me back, an' I can't shake the feelin' that somethin' _bad's_ goin' on.”

Arthur combed his fingers through Merlin's hair. “Want me to look for her?” he asked softly.

Merlin looked up at him, hopeful and surprised at the same time. “Really?”

Arthur smiled. “Of course. I'll check with my contacts, see if anyone's seen or heard anything.”

Merlin sighed with relief, his worry instantly dissipating to almost nothing. “Thank you,” he whispered, and Arthur kissed the top of his head.

“Do you want me to go immediately?” he asked in a low voice, his fingers tracing down Merlin's spine and slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, before sliding down between his cheeks and pressing gently against his entrance.

A wave of heat made Merlin's cheeks flush, and his hips jerked forward of their own accord, pressing him against Arthur's leg.

“N-no,” he stammered. “I-it can wait a l-little—”

Arthur chuckled. “I was hoping you'd say that,” he confessed, working the tip of one finger inside Merlin. It was too dry, and Merlin bit his lip—Arthur's other hand caught him below the chin and tilted his face up for a kiss. Merlin moaned into Arthur's mouth, and Arthur smiled against his lips.

“I thought you might still be wet from earlier this morning,” he said huskily, crooking the tip of his finger and making Merlin shudder.

“H-had to s-shower before w-work.”

“Pity.” Arthur shifted, sliding Merlin off of him and laying Merlin facedown on the bed. Merlin reached for him as he pulled away slightly, but Arthur pressed him back down.

“Hold still,” Arthur said in a low voice. Removing his finger from Merlin, he moved down on the bed, and Merlin shivered in anticipation as he felt the bed dip on either side of his hips.

“What are you doing?” he gasped, craning his neck back to see Arthur kneeling over him.

The vampire flashed him a wicked grin. “Something new,” he murmured as he removed Merlin's boxers. Merlin wiggled slightly, his already hard cock pressing down into the mattress.

“Hold _still_ ,” Arthur repeated, reaching up and taking a pillow from the head of the bed. Sliding a hand under Merlin's hips, he lifted Merlin and placed the pillow under him. Merlin felt his face redden as his ass was propped up, legs spread and hole exposed to the almost unnoticeable coolness in the night air.

“Arthur—” he began uncertainly. If Arthur was going to fuck him like this, that was fine, but the vampire hadn't touched him again, and he was definitely starting to feel self-conscious …

Then something firm and warm and wet pressed against his entrance, and Merlin yelped. “W-what—?”

Arthur's hands gripped his hips firmly, holding him in place and spreading his cheeks. “Relax,” the vampire whispered, his lips grazing over the sensitive skin of Merlin's hole as his tongue flicked out again, swirling around the puckered skin before pushing back inside.

Merlin cried out and tried to pull away— “Y-you can't, that's _gross_ , it's not _clean_ —”

Arthur pressed his forehead against Merlin's hip and laughed. “What, afraid I'll get sick and die?”

“No, but—”

“Merlin, just shut up, all right?”

Before Merlin could respond, Arthur's tongue was lapping at him softly, making him twitch and moan even as he buried his face in the mattress with embarrassment.

“Better,” Arthur hissed against his skin, nipping gently at the darkened ring of flesh.

Merlin let out a choked gasp as Arthur's tongue began to fuck him in earnest, pressing into him and moving inside him, making him grind helplessly into the pillow under him. When one of Arthur's hands reached up and gripped his cock firmly, Merlin only had to thrust into the vampire's fist twice before he came with a cry, pressing back against Arthur's tongue as he shuddered through his release.

Arthur kept licking until Merlin collapsed bonelessly against the bed, at which point the vampire rolled him over and pressed a kiss against Merlin's collarbone.

“That's to tide you over until I get back,” he murmured in Merlin's ear, and was gone before Merlin could muster up anything close to a coherent reply.

* * *

“Still amused by your gift, I take it?”

The vampire who'd killed Edwin—Gwaine, she'd heard Morgause call him—ambled leisurely down the stairs to the dungeon in the basement of _Vampelot_. His eyes raked over Morgana where she hung, naked and suspended by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling, before resting on his Child. Morgana moaned as Morgause nipped her breast hard enough to draw blood, before pulling back and turning to face her Maker with a feral grin.

“Very much so,” she confirmed.

“Wonderful.” Gwaine paced around Morgana, tracing an idle finger over her breasts and squeezing her nipples absently. “And has your little songbird composed anything interesting recently?”

Morgause licked Morgana's blood off her lips delicately before answering. “She's just coming down from a high, but she mentioned what could be unauthorized werewolf activity along the District 4 border.”

Gwaine made pleased noise. “What a surprisingly useful little pet you've turned out to be,” he murmured, slipping his fingers between Morgana's legs and stroking her gently. “Further proof that I am the best Maker a vampire could hope to have.”

Morgana shuddered and tried to pull away from his touch as Morgause rolled her eyes.

“Egotistical bastard,” she laughed, her voice full of affection. When Gwaine removed his fingers, she slipped hers into place, alternately stroking and pinching Morgana, making her moan and cry out in turns. Morgana's head, still fuzzy from the V that was slowly leaving her system, was clear enough for her to wonder if anyone had even noticed she was missing…she had no idea how long she'd been there, hanging in the dark as V coursed through her veins, making her babble and rave as Morgause took blood and pleasure from her body.

Gwaine leaned back against the stone wall as Morgause continued to toy with Morgana, nibbling on her nipples until they hardened against her will, making her arch up into the vampire's mouth and whimper helplessly.

“Morgause?” Gwaine asked thoughtfully, after several long moments had passed.

“Mmm?” Morgause hummed into Morgana's chest, and Morgana shuddered.

“Do you remember about, oh, two hundred years ago, when you told me you'd decided to only fuck women and I called you the worst Child ever?”

Morgause made an affirmative noise as she bent down and nipped the pale skin of Morgana's stomach..

Eyes riveted on Morgana's face, Gwaine waved his hand magnanimously. “All is forgiven.”

Morgause laughed softly, and knelt between Morgana's legs. “If you want to stay and watch...” Her tongue flicked out, and Morgana writhed in her bonds.

Gwaine made a noise of regret. “Sadly, my duties as Sheriff requires me to investigate your songbird's potential werewolf issue. I'm afraid I'll probably be out until just before dawn.”

Morgause waved goodbye absently as he stood, and Morgana flinched as he walked over to them again.

“Enjoy her,” he said with a grin, bending down and kissing Morgause's hair. Then he was gone, and Morgause slid a finger deep into Morgana before sinking her fangs into the soft flesh of Morgana's inner thigh.

  



	15. Chapter 15

_Blood._

 _The sun._

“Merlin!”

 _No, don't—don't hurt him!_

 _Arthur._

 _The sun._

 _Merlin._

 _Blood._

* * *

Minutes, or hours, or days later, Morgana thrashed in her bonds as the visions crashed over her. Her voice was raw, but she couldn't tell if she'd been speaking or screaming or sobbing. Morgause stood behind her, one hand stroking her stomach and the other reaching between her legs as she murmured into Morgana's ear.

“That's it, little one, tell me what you see...”

Morgana struggled to get away—from the visions, from the vampire, from the words that swirled in her ears, but she could barely feel her own body, let alone move. She could feel herself babbling, words pouring out of her like water, but she had no idea what she was saying.

“Keep going,” Morgause purred encouragingly. “What is Arthur doing?”

“T-the sun,” Morgana whimpered. “It's so warm, it's been so long—”

Morgause's hands stilled. “Arthur's in the sun?” she hissed.

“Merlin,” Morgana sobbed deliriously. “No, _please_ —”

“Tell me about Arthur!” Morgause's grip tightened painfully, cutting through the visions and making Morgana scream.

“What do you want to know?” came a cold voice from behind them.

Then Morgause was gone, and Morgana sagged in her bonds, pain shooting up her arms as her shoulders bore her weight. Lifting her head weakly, she blinked in confusion.

Morgause and Arthur were in front of her, fangs bared, matching expressions of loathing on their faces. Neither of them moved as they stared each other down, standing almost close enough to touch as tension radiated through their bodies.

“Why are you here?” Morgause hissed.

“Looking for her.” Arthur's eyes flickered to Morgana, irises so dark they were almost black. Morgana was dimly aware that she should feel relieved, but the tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine.

Morgause smirked at him disdainfully. “Taking orders from your pet, now?”

Ignoring Morgause's jab, Arthur's eyes narrowed. “Give her to me.”

Morgause laughed. “Fuck you.”

Arthur took a step forward. “I'm not leaving here without her,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

Morgause's lips curved in a vicious smile. “You aren't strong enough to take her from me.”

Morgana shivered again as Arthur matched Morgause's smile. “I don't need to be.” Morgause's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he continued in a voice like poisoned honey. “What do you think the human media would do if they found out about what goes on beneath famous _Vampelot's_ charming exterior?”

“I don't give a fuck,” Morgause snarled, but Morgana could hear the hint of fear in her voice.

“But others will. Others who are working very, very hard to convince the humans that we're no threat, that we can exist in society with them without bloodshed.” Arthur's voice dropped even lower. “Others who would have no qualms about destroying you and your Maker if you jeopardized their… _her_ …work.”

Morgause recoiled sharply, pure hatred splashed across her features. “You wouldn't _dare_.”

“Believe me,” Arthur said softly, “I would. Give me the girl.”

With a feral snarl, Morgause spun around. Stalking over to Morgana, she lifted her down easily and flung her into Arthur's arms. Morgana cried out in pain, and Arthur cradled her against his chest.

“Get the fuck out,” Morgause spat. “Go running to _her_ , eat the girl yourself, I don't fucking care. But know that I won't forget this, Pendragon. You fuck up just once, and I'll be there, fucking her—” she jabbed her finger at Morgana, “—senseless and drinking her dry while Gwaine does the same to _your_ precious little human.”

Morgana cried out again as Arthur's grip tightened involuntarily.

“Merlin is _mine_ ,” he snarled. “If either of you touch him, I'll kill you both.”

Morgause smiled back, eyes flashing with hate. “You're welcome to try,” she laughed. “And even if you _could_ , how lenient do you think the others will be if you kill our kind _again_ over a human?”

Morgana felt tension thrumming through Arthur's body, and looked up in fear. His face was dark, feral, as he stared at the other vampire.

“Shall we find out?” he growled.

Morgana could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the vampires stared each other down. Arthur's arms were clenched around her like a vise, and the room swam in front of her eyes.

Morgause laughed contemptuously and looked away. “You're an arrogant bastard, Pendragon,” she said, almost gaily. “You've been allowed to get away with too much, and you think you're untouchable. But if you step out of line again, not even _her_ protection will be enough to save you. If she even thinks you're still worth protecting.”

She looked him up and down disdainfully. “I hope your little Merlin is worth it. He must be _very_ special indeed. Maybe Gwaine will share him with me when you lose him for good.”

Morgana collapsed to the floor as Arthur snarled in rage and launched himself at Morgause. Moving almost too fast to see, Morgause caught him in midair and flung him into the wall.

“Get out,” she hissed. “Before I change my mind and risk the others' anger myself.”

Eyes flashing murderously, Arthur picked himself up and stalked back over to Morgana. Reaching down, he swept her up in his arms, and the room tilted sharply around them as she fainted against his chest.

* * *

The pounding on his door woke Elyan up abruptly—before he even knew what he was doing, he was out of bed and looking out the door at—

“Invite me in.” Arthur stood on his porch, fangs bared and face contorted with rage as he cradled the limp, bloody form of Morgana in his arms.

Fear shot through Elyan's body, paralyzing him, as he stared into the vampire's dark, burning eyes.

“Elyan!” Arthur snarled, shaking Morgana in front of his face. “Invite. Me. In!”

“C-come in,” he stammered blindly, ignoring the terrified voice inside his head. The vampire surged inside and set Morgana down gently on the couch. He rounded on Elyan and Elyan fell back with a gasp.

“She needs clothes. She'd freezing,” Arthur snarled, his face inches away from Elyan's.

“W-what—?” Elyan began, not understanding—

Arthur grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him against the wall. Arthur's entire body vibrated with barely-contained strength and rage, and Elyan's knees nearly gave out.

“Clothes. _Now_ ,” Arthur hissed, and Elyan nodded in terror. Arthur released him and he staggered forward, nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry to obey.

He rushed to his bedroom and dug up some old clothes—a tee shirt and basketball shorts—but paused before returning. Away from the vampire, his thoughts swirled—he had an angry, violent vampire in his living room, who may or may not be responsible for attacking one of his friends, and who at the very least was fucking _dangerous_. Heart pounding, Elyan took a deep breath and prayed to whoever might be listening in that he'd make it out of there alive.

When he returned to the living room, Arthur was dipping his fingers into a cut on his arm and brusquely spreading the blood over Morgana's bite marks. Elyan made a choking noise, and the vampire shot him a dark glance.

“They're surface wounds. Shallow. They don't require enough blood to…affect her,” he growled.

Elyan swallowed convulsively and set the clothes down next to the couch. “W-what happened to her? W-why did you bring her—?”

“You worked for Gwaine.” Arthur's tone was harsh.

Elyan flinched at Arthur's unspoken words— _You know about V_ — and Arthur stood abruptly.

“She's still high,” he said, his eyes burning into Elyan. “Stay with her.”

“S-she needs a doctor—”

Then Arthur was on him, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the door. “If you even _think_ about reporting this, I'll tear you apart,” he snarled.

“Did _you_ do this?” The words escaped before Elyan could stop them and Elyan's life flashed before his eyes, but Arthur released him suddenly and turned away.

“No,” he growled, looking over at Morgana.

Emboldened, Elyan pressed on. “And I'm supposed to believe—?”

Arthur rounded on him again, and Elyan shrank back from his bared fangs. “I don't care what you _believe_ ,” Arthur snarled, “but what you will _say_ is that she decided to take an impromptu trip to New Orleans and forgot her phone at home.”

Trembling against the wall, Elyan gaped at him. “That's fuckin' _bullshit_ ,” he gasped. “No one's gonna buy that—”

“ _Make_ them 'buy' it,” Arthur hissed, closing the distance between them and catching Elyan under his chin. “Vampires. Were. Not. Involved.”

Elyan shook in his grasp, but he couldn't stop himself—“What, you scared Merlin'll dump your ass if he finds out you an' your friends—”

With a snarl, Arthur squeezed his throat, cutting off his air. “Merlin has suffered enough because of my kind. If you—or Morgana—even so much as _think_ anything about this, and he finds out, I'll kill you.”

Elyan trembled as Arthur leaned in close.

“Merlin is mine to protect,” he growled in Elyan's ear. “I won't let anyone— _anyone_ —hurt him. Make sure she knows it as well.”

Then he was gone, leaving Elyan cursing all vampires as he hurried to dress Morgana with shaking hands.

* * *

Merlin woke with a yelp—he couldn't move, couldn't breathe—

Then the weight pressing down on him shifted, and a hot mouth was licking its way up his neck

“A-Arthur?” he gasped, receiving a low growl in return. He cried out when Arthur shifted again, grinding his hardened cock against Merlin's rapidly filling one, running his hands over Merlin's body as though trying to map every inch of his skin.

“Merlin,” Arthur moaned, the desperation in his voice cutting through Merlin's sleep-fogged mind.

“What—?” Merlin tried to ask, but Arthur captured his mouth, forcing his tongue inside and stifling Merlin's words, fucking Merlin's mouth with his tongue even as he thrust against Merlin's hip.

When the vampire pulled away slightly, reaching for the lube on the nightstand, Merlin tried to focus around the haze of lust clouding his thoughts. “D-did you find—?”

“No.” Arthur was on him again, rolling his hips against Merlin. “No,” he repeated brokenly into Merlin's neck as Merlin arched up under him. “Merlin, I need—”

“What? Need what?” Merlin gasped as Arthur half-growled, half-sobbed into Merlin's skin.

“Need to know, need _you_ —you're _mine_ , Merlin—” Arthur's voice hitched and a nearly-painful thrill rushed over Merlin at his words, “—never let anything happen to you, you're _mine_...”

“ _Yes_ ,” Merlin gasped, his head falling back onto the pillow as Arthur's mouth worked against his skin. Then Arthur pushed one of his legs up to his chest, and Merlin's hands clenched on Arthur's back convulsively as the hot, slippery tip of Arthur's cock pressed into him.

“Oh, _God_ ,” he moaned as Arthur growled into his neck. Pulling back slightly, the head of his cock still embedded in Merlin, Arthur captured Merlin's wrists and pinned them over his head. A jolt of fear and heat shot through Merlin as he looked, wide-eyed in the dark, up at Arthur—Arthur's face was contorted by _need_ and lust and something else, something dark—his fangs were bared, almost glowing, as he stared down at Merlin...

Merlin hitched his hips up, trying to take Arthur deeper, arching his back and baring his neck. “Do it,” he moaned. “I'm _yours_ , Arthur, do it...”

With a groan, Arthur collapsed down onto him, driving himself deep into Merlin and pressing his face against Merlin's neck as Merlin cried out.

“Do it, do it, do it,” he moaned deliriously as Arthur began to thrust into him, hard and fast and deep, shuddering against Merlin as his fangs brushed over Merlin's skin.

“Merlin,” he moaned, hands tightening on Merlin's wrists. Merlin went limp beneath him, helpless against the feel of Arthur inside him, on top of him, holding him and taking him and claiming him.

“Do it,” he begged raggedly, and Arthur made a soft, desperate noise in the back of his throat before plunging his fangs into Merlin's neck.

Merlin screamed, arching up off the bed. His eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure and pain mingled in equal measure, Arthur's thrusts shaking him to the core, Arthur's mouth on his neck making him see stars…

He felt his body struggle against his will as the vampire both filled and drained him. Through the fog of confusion clouding his thoughts, he was dimly aware of terror rising in him as his life's blood left his veins, but beneath the fear was something soft and golden, something that rose in waves and seeped out from the deepest parts of him. He felt warmth flowing through him like blood, coursing through his veins, leaving his body and entering Arthur as the vampire fed. Merlin gasped in wonder as the sensation shot through him—he could feel himself entering Arthur, feel his light spread through the vampire's body, suffusing undead flesh with an invisible glow of warmth...

Then Arthur jerked away, and Merlin cried out with loss; he felt himself come just as Arthur finished inside of him, pressed cheek to cheek as the vampire's fangs shredded the pillow by his head.

When the aftershocks had faded, Arthur pulled out slowly and held Merlin in shaking arms. “Did I—did I take too much?”

Merlin shook his head weakly, but the trembling in his limbs gave him away. Baring his fangs again, Arthur bit his own wrist and pressed it against Merlin's mouth. Too exhausted to refuse, Merlin managed a couple mouthfuls and felt warm lethargy creep into his body.

“Wh-what was _that_ about?” he asked, eyelids already drooping closed.

Arthur buried his face in Merlin's hair, pulling Merlin against him as though trying to fuse their bodies into a single being. “I—talked to the others, and I just needed to prove...” he trailed off. “I just needed to _know_ for certain...”

Merlin made a happy noise as he burrowed back against Arthur's chest.

“Of _course_ I'm yours,” he murmured as sleep overcame him.

  



	16. Chapter 16

When Merlin woke again, Arthur was watching him with soft eyes, running his fingers through Merlin's hair.

Merlin smiled up at him sleepily. “...time's it?” he mumbled. The thick, dark curtains he'd put up some time ago, after one too many times of waking up with the sun despite a certain vampire keeping him up almost all night, blocked every trace of light from outside; he had no idea if the moon had set yet, or if the stars were beginning to dim.

Arthur traced the outline of his lips with a finger. “Don't know,” he said softly. “Your phone's downstairs. I didn't want to leave you to check it.”

Merlin pressed a kiss against Arthur's finger. “Close to dawn?”

Arthur shook his head. “I don't feel the urge to go to ground,” he said softly. “So dawn's at least two hours away.”

Merlin sucked the tip of Arthur's finger into his mouth. “Good.” Rolling over, he pressed Arthur flat onto his back and climbed up to straddle his hips. Arthur's cock twitched under him, beginning to fill, and Arthur's hands went to his hips as the vampire looked up at him with lust-darkened eyes.

“I wanna ride you,” Merlin breathed, moving his hips in a slow circle. Arthur's fingers tightened on his hips and he nodded, biting his lower lip.

Reaching down beneath him, Merlin took Arthur's cock in his hand, rubbing it leisurely until it was hard and hot under him. Then, still wet and stretched from the night before, he lifted up and guided Arthur into him as their moans of pleasure mingled.

After holding still and just enjoying the feeling of Arthur in him for as long as he could, Merlin began to move. Arthur stayed motionless beneath him, eyes flickering from Merlin's face to the bite mark on his neck as Merlin fucked himself on Arthur's cock. Merlin let his head fall back, moaning shamelessly as he ground down as hard as he could, encouraged by Arthur's hands flexing rhythmically on his hips.

He curved forward when he came and Arthur surged up to catch him, holding Merlin to his chest as Merlin spilled out his release between them. Then Arthur laid him on his back, fucking him through the aftershocks before finishing inside of him.

They lay for a long while, tangled in each other, uncertain where one of them ended and the other began. Arthur pressed Merlin's chest to his and held him in place.

“When we lay like this,” the vampire said hoarsely, “I can feel your heartbeat. It feels like it could be mine.”

Merlin looked up and traced the line of Arthur's jaw with his fingers. “It is,” he said quietly. “My heartbeat. My heart.”

Arthur looked down at him silently, before dipping his head and pressing butterfly kisses against Merlin's lips.

“The most precious thing in the world,” he murmured into Merlin's mouth.

After another long while, Merlin wriggled in Arthur's arms. Propping himself up on Arthur's chest, he looked down at the vampire, smiling almost shyly.

“Hi.”

Arthur smiled back at him and carded his hand through Merlin's hair. “Hi, yourself.”

Merlin ducked his head and snuggled up under Arthur's chin. “So, 'bout last night…” He felt Arthur stiffen, but continued, “Do you feel any different now?”

Arthur's hand stilled in his hair. “No.”

Merlin blinked and started to pull away, hurt. “No?”

Arthur pulled him back down. “No, in a good way,” he clarified. “Before, I was afraid that if I bit you…” he trailed off.

“That what, you'd lose control?”

Arthur's hand wandered down to trace over Merlin's back. “Among other things.”

“Oh.” Merlin wasn't sure he was satisfied with that answer, but he didn't feel like turning it into a fight. “I don't feel tired at all,” he said wonderingly. “Feels like I slept for hours.”

Arthur stroked the length of Merlin's spine. “You definitely didn't.”

Merlin grinned at him. “Tell that to my bladder. I gotta pee like a racehorse.”

Arthur huffed a laugh into his hair. “One of the few things about being human that I don't miss.”

Merlin poked him in the side. “But it feels so good to let it all out...”

With a groan, Arthur shoved him away. “You're disgusting.”

Still grinning, Merlin padded over to the door and opened it—

—and diffused sunlight from the hall poured into the room.

“Fuck!” he shrieked, slamming the door shut. “Arthur! Are you—”

He spun around, but Arthur was crouching behind the bed, eyes wide with terror.

“How—?” Merlin began, but Arthur ignored him. Rushing to the window, the vampire paused with his hand hovering over the curtain—

“Wait! What are you—”

With a strangled noise, Arthur flung back the curtain and threw up the glass, bathing himself in the direct sunlight. Merlin screamed and flung himself on Arthur, knocking him sideways and into the shade before running his hands all over Arthur's body to put out the flames—

—that weren't there.

Merlin blinked uncomprehendingly at the unmarred expanse of Arthur's chest as the vampire wrestled him up onto his feet.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. “Look at me!”

Merlin's eyes snapped up to Arthur's face, blankly taking in the look of panic splashed across the vampire's features.

“You have to go!” Arthur shook him, trying to snap him out of his daze, and Merlin frowned in confusion.

“What the fuck—” he began, but Arthur cut him off.

“There's no time!” Even as he spoke, trickles of blood began to seep from the corners of his eyes. “I was wrong, I was so _wrong_! You need to get out of here, _now_! Take what you can and leave Camelot!”

Frown deepening, Merlin pulled away. “What? No! Arthur, what the fuck's going on? Why aren't you—”

Arthur made a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob, and lurched to the side. He fell on his back on the bed, blood beginning to stream from his nostrils and ears as well.

“Please,” he begged, “ _Run._ Merlin, you have to—”

Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed. With a cry, Merlin rushed over to him. Running his hands over Arthur's chest, he jerked back with a gasp—Arthur's skin, warmed by their exertions and Merlin's proximity, was already starting to cool. Mind spinning, Merlin yanked the curtains shut. Remembering hazily that Arthur said he became ‘like a corpse’ when he went to ground during the day, Merlin tried not to panic. Arranging Arthur on his bed so it looked like Arthur was sleeping and not…dead...he stumbled shakily downstairs to try and figure out what the hell just happened.

* * *

It was noon.

Merlin stared at the kitchen clock in shock.

The sun had been up for almost six hours, and so had Arthur. Arthur hadn't even felt the dawn.

That was impossible.

He looked at the clock numbly for a good five minutes, before…

“Fuck!” He was supposed to work lunch, and he was already late. Moving on autopilot, he shoved everything else away and got ready for work with record speed.

* * *

Lance and Gwen shot him twin dirty looks when he showed up half an hour late, and Merlin kept his head down and his thoughts to himself as he scrambled to make up for his lateness with the fastest service ever. Unfortunately, Elyan wouldn't even look at him at all, which resulted in a truly unacceptable number of fucked-up orders, and he was still upset enough to trip over his own feet almost every other step. When the lunch rush finally died down a little after 2pm, he sagged against the bar with relief that Lance had, once more and against all reason, decided not to fire him.

Unfortunately, the pause in activity gave his mind the opportunity to flash back to Arthur, lying cold and unburned on his bed. Clenching his jaw to keep from freaking out entirely, he cast around blindly for something to do to distract himself.

“All right, spill. What is it this time?” The sharpness of Gwen's words was belied by the fond exasperation of her tone, and he looked over the bar to see her leaning on her elbows and staring at him.

Merlin frowned and looked away. “Nothin',” he mumbled.

“Bullshit,” Gwen said conversationally. “You look like someone just pissed in your cornflakes.”

Merlin made a face. “You got a way with words, you know that?”

Gwen mock-glared at him. “Don't change the subject.”

Sighing, Merlin buried his face in his hands. “You don't wanna know.”

Gwen made a disgusted noise. “'Course I do, wouldn't have asked otherwise.” Merlin glanced up at her to argue the point, and her face darkened. “Is this about Arthur? Did he do somethin' to you?”

“No!” Merlin's negation was automatic. Then he paused, and reconsidered. “Well, I mean, it is about Arthur, but he didn't do anythin' to me…at least, nothin' I didn't _want_ him to do…it's more about what happened after.”

Gwen's eyebrows tried to climb into her hair. “Okay, now you _really_ gotta explain. Am I gonna need a bucket?”

Merlin looked at her in confusion. “A bucket?”

“Am I gonna wanna throw up?”

“Maybe,” Merlin said uncomfortably. “Really, it's okay, I don't gotta—”

“Merlin.” Gwen reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Talk.”

Merlin took a deep breath. “Okay. Um. So, last night, Arthur an' I…we...” He blushed, and waved his hands vaguely.

“You fucked?”

“Keep your voice down! Yeah, we, uh, we had—had sex.”

“For the first time?”

“What? No! We've done it before—we've done a _ton_ of stuff—but last night was...different.”

Gwen looked at him appraisingly. “How so?”

Merlin couldn't meet her eyes as he turned his head, revealing the perfect fang marks Arthur had left.

Gwen's breath hissed out from between her teeth, but her voice was steady. “First time for that?”

Merlin nodded. “I wanted it,” he said defensively.

“Okay.” Gwen's voice was neutral. “So what are you upset about?”

Merlin fiddled with an empty glass. “So it was good, right? I mean, kinda painful, but I liked it, an' then I fell asleep. An' when I woke up this morning…Arthur was still up.”

He finally met Gwen's eyes, trying to will her to understand.

She didn't. “So?”

Merlin sighed in frustration. “ _So_ vampires always…fall asleep…at dawn. But I woke up a little before noon.”

Gwen's eyes widened in comprehension. “An' he was still up…so he was awake durin' the day?”

Merlin nodded unhappily. “Yeah. He didn't burn in the sun either. But then he got all weird, kept sayin' I had to leave Camelot, wouldn't tell me why. Then he got the bleeds an' passed out.”

Gwen's nose wrinkled. “The bleeds?”

Merlin made a face. “You _really_ don't wanna know.”

This time, she took his word for it. “So…the problem is, you think he was up cuz he bit you?”

Merlin frowned. “Kinda, yeah, but I got no idea what the fuck that means.”

Gwen made a thoughtful noise. “You know, that could explain a lot.”

“Whatta you mean?”

“Well, you told me an' Lance that Arthur, Gwaine, an' that one vamp, Val, all said you smelled real good. Maybe you're some kind of, I dunno, vampire drug?”

“What, like vampire meth? Make 'em go crazy an' never sleep?”

Gwen shrugged. “You got a better idea?”

Merlin groaned. “No, but…why couldn't I be somethin' safer, like pot? Make 'em super-chill an' philosophical instead.”

Gwen snorted. “More like, give 'em all insatiable munchies. Fuck no, thank you very much.”

Merlin sighed. “It's just weird, is all. I'll just talk with Arthur 'bout it later, make him explain. It's prob'ly no big deal.”

Gwen made a sympathetic noise. “I hope you're right.”

“Yeah, me too.”

* * *

Merlin kept an eye on the sun, and wasn't surprised when Arthur showed up as soon as it was dark. What did surprise him, however, was how Arthur didn't even bother to say hi, just grabbed him by the arm.

“Get your things. We're leaving.”

“What?” Merlin tried to pull away, but Arthur only gripped him harder. “Let go! I ain't goin' anywhere ‘til you tell me what the fuck happened earlier!”

“We don't have _time_ for this!” Arthur hissed frantically. “I have to get you out of here _now,_ before—”

“Back off, fanger!” Gwen glared at Arthur from behind the shotgun, and Arthur ground his teeth in frustration.

“Gwen, you have no idea—” he began.

“Let Merlin _go,_ ” she snarled, unmoved.

With a hiss, Arthur released Merlin and faced him directly.

“Please,” he begged, looking into Merlin's eyes. “You've _got_ to trust me. We need to go _now_. I'll explain everything—”

“I think that would be a _very_ good idea.”

Arthur spun around, shielding Merlin behind him, and Merlin's eyes snapped up to see Gwaine holding a struggling Freya in his arms. Behind him was a blonde female vampire, also holding someone—

 _Morgana._

Merlin's blood ran cold at the sight of his sister slumped limply in the vampire's arms. The vampire noticed his stare, and grinned at him with bared fangs.

“As I was saying,” Gwaine continued, staring at Arthur. “I think an explanation is a wonderful idea. Why don't you and Merlin accompany myself, Morgause, and our…guests…to _Vampelot_ for a nice, long chat?”

Arthur stiffened, opening his mouth to reply, when Gwaine made a sharp move and Freya cried out. Arthur's mouth snapped shut, and Merlin felt something twist in his stomach. Forcing himself to tear his eyes from Morgana, he reached out and caught Arthur's shoulder.

“We have to,” he said quietly.

Turning slightly, Arthur looked at him with an expression of such despair that Merlin's heart almost stopped.

“I'm sorry,” Arthur whispered, before taking Merlin into his arms.

Gwaine smirked at them. “Excellent decision.” Glancing over at Gwen, still holding the gun, and Lance, who stared at them all in shock from behind her, he smiled darkly. “And if any of _you_ try to crash my little party, rest assured I'll kill all of them. And you.”

The last thing Merlin heard was Gwen's blistering curse, before the rushing wind in his ears drowned out all sound.

  



	17. Chapter 17

They entered _Vampelot_ through the back door, although the club wouldn't be open for several more hours. Gwaine led them to a supply room; as soon as they were inside, Arthur positioned himself between Merlin and the other vampires.

“Gwaine,” he said quietly, “if this is about Mor—” his voice caught. “ _Morgause_ ,” he continued, “we can—”

Gwaine cut him off with a dismissive snort. “Oh, my Child would love nothing more than to grant you the True Death,” he said with a bright smile. “But you and I both know that's not what this is about.” His smile sharpened as his eyes flickered to Merlin, before locking back on Arthur. “Go downstairs. Prepare yourself, and him. Silver and hook.”

“No.” Arthur's voice was flat, but Merlin could hear his rage simmering just below the surface.

Gwaine's expression darkened. “Do not disobey me, Arthur,” he said quietly. “Not now.”

Behind him, the other vampire—Morgause—placed her fangs on Morgana's limp neck, looking straight at Merlin with laughing eyes.

“Arthur,” Merlin gasped.

“Be _quiet_ ,” Arthur hissed, not taking his eyes off Gwaine. Gwaine's scowl deepened, and Freya cried out as he gripped her tightly.

“This is your last chance,” he said.

Arthur opened his mouth, face twisting, but Merlin spun him around by the shoulder. Arthur's enraged glare fell on him; Merlin caught Arthur's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “Arthur,” he breathed. “It's okay. We'll get through this.” He looked into Arthur's eyes. “We ain't got a choice.”

Arthur made a pained noise, his eyes too wide as they scanned Merlin's frantically. “You don't know what you're saying.”

“She's my _sister_.”

Arthur just stared at him.

“Listen to him, Arthur,” Gwaine said in a sing-song voice. “You know he's right.”

Arthur shut his eyes as a shudder wracked his entire body. Then he opened them again and, not meeting Merlin's questioning gaze, pulled him away, out of the room and down a dark staircase into—

A dungeon. A fucking _dungeon._

Merlin's eyes roved over the room—the black paint on the walls, floor and ceiling, the metal hooks and other protuberances sticking out from the wall, the shiny chains and restraints dragging on the ground.

The manacles hanging from the hook in the middle of the ceiling.

Fear began to uncoil in his belly.

“Arthur? What the fuck is this place?” he asked with a nervous laugh. Arthur turned to him, and Merlin was startled to see a tear of blood slip slowly down his cheek. He reached up automatically to wipe it away, but Arthur pulled him forward, kissing him desperately, pressing their bodies together as he clutched Merlin like a lifeline.

“I'm so sorry, Merlin,” he whispered. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“Hey,” Merlin said, dazed from the strength of his embrace, “shit happens, right? 'Specially 'round vampires. We'll just have that 'chat' with him, or whatever, an' get out of here as fast as we can. It's not like he can touch me, right?”

Arthur pulled back and looked at him. “I don't know,” he said softly.

And that tiny admission scared Merlin more than anything else had in his entire life.

“Wait, what?” he choked out as Arthur drew him out to the middle of the floor, directly underneath the hook. “Whatta you mean, you don't know? I thought Vampire Law—”

“—may not apply, in this case,” Gwaine's voice echoed down the staircase. “Ready or not, here I come!”

Merlin's eyes snapped to Gwaine as he sauntered down the stairs, before flashing back to Arthur's face. Not meeting his eyes, Arthur caught his wrists and raised them over his head.

“Arthur, what're you—” His words cut off in a gasp as the manacles hanging from the hook snapped shut around his wrists. Arthur's hands fell to Merlin's face; cupping Merlin's jaw, he kissed Merlin once, another tear leaking from his eyes to fall, wet and hot, on Merlin's cheek. Then Arthur stepped back, his face a mask of anguish.

Gwaine stepped forward.

“Hello, little hawk,” he purred as he brushed past Merlin and walked to the wall behind him. A moment later, Merlin heard the sound of rusty metal on metal; he cried out as he was jerked sharply into the air, leaving only the tips of his toes brushing the ground.

“A-Arthur!” he cried out, eyes flying to the vampire—

—just as Arthur, face contorted in pain, snapped a silver collar closed around his own neck. Merlin stared in horror as Arthur sank to the floor with a hiss, the silver chain that now tethered him to the wall gleaming in the dark.

Gwaine chuckled as he walked past Merlin again, stopping in front of Arthur with his hands on his hips.

“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur,” he said with false concern. “I'm so disappointed in you.”

Arthur glared up at him. “Fuck you.”

Gwaine laughed. “Later, perhaps. After I've done what you failed to do.” He knelt down and gripped Arthur's chin. “Think how devastated _she'll_ be when she learns how weak you are,” he murmured. Releasing Arthur, he stood again. “Luckily, I know _exactly_ where my loyalties lie.”

“Your only loyalty is to yourself,” Arthur snarled up at him.

Gwaine smiled beatifically. “Indeed. Which is why, before I finish what you should have, I'm going to do something I've been wanting to do for _quite_ some time now.”

A look of horror flashed across Arthur's face, and he tried to lunge at Gwaine. “No! You can't—” The silver chain jerked him back, and Gwaine laughed again.

“Oh, but I _can_. And I _will_ …seeing as the prohibition against touching another vampire's human only applies to _humans_.”

Merlin watched in confusion as Arthur's mouth fell open with shock. “How did you—”

Gwaine scoffed. “Is it really so surprising that I figured it out? The mind-reading, the way he _smells_ … When added to the vision Morgause told me about just before dawn, the vision his prescient sister had—did you know that, little hawk?” Gwaine turned to Merlin with a smile, “That when she's high on V, your lovely sister can see the future? No? Well.” He turned back to Arthur as Merlin boggled, “The vision of you _in the sun_ …it didn't take much effort to reach the logical conclusion.”

Finding his voice at last, Merlin struggled against his bonds. “ _What_ conclusion? What are you _talkin'_ about? Morgana on V, seein' the future, the way I smell—?”

Gwaine turned to him, beaming. “Hush, little hawk,” he said soothingly. “It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you were both considerate enough to stay in Camelot instead of running, and now you're here with me, and Arthur can do _nothing_ about it.”

He took a slow step towards Merlin, and Arthur threw himself forward again, his flesh sizzling as the silver collar cut deep. “Gwaine!” he raged. “If you touch him, I swear—!”

Gwaine ignored Arthur, eyes locked on Merlin as he continued forward. Merlin glared at him, still struggling against the manacles.

“Let me go, asshole!” he snapped. “I don't give a fuck about Vampire Law, this is fuckin' _kidnappin'_!”

Gwaine stopped in front of him, eyes roving over Merlin's face, and Merlin scowled back at him.

“I _mean_ it!” he tried again. “Let me _go!_ ”

“Oh, _Merlin_ ,” Gwaine murmured regretfully. “This will be so much more pleasant for you if you don't resist.”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, and Gwaine's smile turned dark. “But it will be so much more satisfying for me if you do,” he purred, raising his hand up towards Merlin's face.

Merlin jerked back as far as he could. “Don't _touch_ me!” he spat, feeling a familiar heat begin to bubble up inside of him. “I'm _warnin'_ you!”

Gwaine laughed, his hand poised just over Merlin's jaw. “Defiant to the last...”

His hand brushed across Merlin's cheek.

Merlin screamed as the heat exploded out of him, flinging Gwaine across the room and slamming him into the wall. The vampire crumpled to the floor, motionless.

Everything was silent except for Merlin's ragged breathing as Arthur stared at him in shock.

“Told—you,” Merlin gasped at Gwaine, “Not to f-fuckin' _touch_ me.”

Gwaine stirred, rasping out a dark chuckle as he dragged himself to his feet.

“So _strong_ ,” he said, his voice rough with delight. He walked shakily back over to Merlin, stopping out of reach this time. “That will make this even better.”

“L-let me go or I'll d-do it again,” Merlin threatened, his voice cracking.

“Mmm.” Gwaine moved forward slightly. “And what will happen to your sister then, I wonder?” He stopped inches away from Merlin's face. “What will happen to Arthur?”

“Merlin!” Arthur's voice was desperate with hope as he struggled against the silver. “Do it! Save yourself!”

Merlin tore his eyes away from Gwaine and met Arthur's wild stare. The silver had cut so deeply into his throat that thick drops of blood were trickling down his neck; his fangs were bared in his open mouth as he strained towards Merlin despite the burning of his flesh.

“ _Please_ ,” Arthur begged, “Save yourself!”

Merlin made his decision.

Turning his face away from Arthur, he closed his eyes.

Gwaine's laughter rippled across his skin, dark with triumph. “Excellent,” he purred, reaching out and running a hand over Merlin's chest. “Let's get started, shall we?”

* * *

"We can't just sit here an' do nothin'!"

Gwen's eyes flashed as she glared at Lance. From behind the bar, Elyan watched his sister fight with their boss, biting his lip to keep quiet. There was no way he was going to let her go after Gwaine, especially since he knew for a fact that Gwaine would carry out his threat and kill them all—as well as Merlin and Morgana—if they did. Luckily, Lance believed the vampire too, and was trying to talk Gwen down.

Unfortunately, Gwen wasn't so easily persuaded. "He's got Merlin an' Morgana!" she shouted. "Are you really gonna let him do God only knows what to them?"

"You heard what he said," Lance argued. "We can't take on vamps by ourselves!"

Gwen made a frustrated noise. "So we go to the cops an' get them to storm the place!"

Elyan couldn't hold back any more. "They'll be dead 'fore we get within a hundred feet of _Vampelot_ ," he snapped, leaving the bar. "Gwaine'll hear us all comin' from a mile away, kill ‘em, dispose of the evidence, an' prob'ly convince the cops to arrest us as trespassers or somethin'. The only thing we can do is wait, an' pray that he lets 'em go once he gets what he wants." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared his sister down.

Gwen narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Really." Her tone was flat. "You got a lot of experience with vampires, huh?"

Elyan blanched. He didn't want to go there, but if that was the only way to convince Gwen how dangerous Gwaine was...

"Yeah," he said grimly. "I really do."

Gwen looked skeptical and Lance looked confused. Gathering his courage, Elyan met his sister's eyes frankly. "Remember when I told you I'd decided to stop smokin' pot?" he asked around the sick feeling in his stomach. Gwen nodded slowly. "So, that was the day after _Vampelot_ first opened up..."

* * *

Merlin gasped as the cool air of the dungeon met his skin; without warning, Gwaine had grabbed his shirt in both hands and torn it from his body. Standing directly in front of him, Gwaine's mouth was parted slightly as his eyes drank in Merlin's chest.

“Lovely,” Gwaine said appreciatively, running a single finger across Merlin's collarbone and down his chest, tracing over his stomach and dipping below his waistband. Merlin flinched away involuntarily, and Arthur cursed behind Gwaine.

Ignoring them both, Gwaine brought his hands up to rest just below Merlin's waist, palming his hipbones through his jeans. Merlin shuddered as Gwaine leaned forward, nosing against his neck.

“The way you _smell_ ,” the vampire moaned. “I can't believe I'm _finally_ going to taste you.”

Merlin braced himself for the sharp pain of a bite, but Gwaine backed away slightly.

“First things first, however,” he smirked, his hands coming to the front of Merlin's jeans. Merlin gasped again as Gwaine brutally stripped him of the rest of his clothes, leaving him hanging naked in the cool air.

“Gwaine!” Arthur's cry was desperate. “Please!”

“Shh,” Gwaine said, distracted, as Merlin trembled under his stare. “Busy.” He took another step back and looked Merlin over intently, before walking around in in a slow circle.

“Where to start?” he murmured quietly. Merlin shut his eyes, trying to will away the panic of anticipation, almost wishing the vampire would just hurry up and get it over with already.

“Ah.” Moving back in front of him, Gwaine made a pleased noise. “Here.”

Merlin cried out as Gwaine's fangs sank into the skin just below his rib cage. He tried to jerk away, but the vampire held him in place firmly, humming with approval as he drank. Arthur's screams rang in in Merlin's ears, clashing with the pounding of his heart as he felt the heat inside him try to escape. Gritting his teeth, he willed it away— _Arthur_ —pushing it _in_ and _down_ until it receded completely.

Gwaine withdrew a moment later, straightening and holding Merlin against him. Merlin trembled uncontrollably as the vampire's hands ran over his back, stroking and caressing him as the vampire pressed his clothed groin against Merlin's bare skin.

“Gwaine!” The chain rattled as Arthur struggled against it. “Stop! _Please!_ I'll do _anything_!”

Nosing the line of Merlin's jaw, Gwaine chuckled. “Anything?” he asked with deep amusement. “Such as break into my bar, steal from my Child, and threaten both of us with—horror!—the human media?”

Pulling away from Merlin slightly, he looked over at Arthur. “And really, Arthur, leaving her with Elyan? Could you have _been_ more obvious?”

Gwaine turned back to Merlin, but confusion pierced through Merlin's fear. “Elyan? What—?”

Gwaine chuckled again. “Oh, nothing. Only that last night, while I was out, our precious Arthur took it into his noble head to 'rescue' your lovely sister from the tender embrace of my darling Morgause, and left her with Elyan. Poor planning on Arthur's part—I've had a standing invitation at Elyan's since I came to your little town.”

Seeing Merlin's shocked expression, Gwaine brow furrowed in mock-concern. “Didn't he tell you that he rescued your sister? No? I suppose that explains why he left her with my favorite little V dealer instead of bringing her back to you.”

The world tilted as Merlin's throat closed up—it was impossible, Gwaine was just trying to tear them apart, there’s no way Arthur could have lied to him like that...

He looked over at Arthur, desperate for reassurance that Gwaine was lying, but Arthur couldn't meet his eyes.

“I just wanted to protect you,” Arthur whispered, looking at the floor in shame, his words ripping through Merlin like shards of glass. “I lov—”

“Yes, but you've done a rather pathetic job of protecting him so far, haven't you?” Gwaine cut in. “Not that _I'm_ complaining, mind you...”

Merlin was still reeling from Arthur’s confession when Gwaine's fingers slid down his stomach. The shock of the vampire’s touch wrenched his attention back to his own body with a gasp; he twitched involuntarily, but the vampire held him steady, rubbing small circles over the place where his right leg met his body. Kneeling down in front of Merlin, Gwaine replaced his fingers with his mouth; Merlin's moan of pain was eclipsed by Arthur's desperate cries as Gwaine's fangs sank into him again. Gwaine's hands crept around behind him to cup his ass, forcing him forward into the vampire's mouth. Merlin's entire body shook as Gwaine's fingers kneaded his skin in time with the vampire's sucking.

Body burning with pain and shame, Merlin barely registered when Gwaine pulled away. Still on his knees, the vampire smirked up at him from beneath his lashes. “This next spot's my favorite,” he confided, before dipping his head down and biting the soft flesh high up on Merlin's inner thigh.

Pain shot through Merlin's groin as Gwaine punctured his skin; he arched up with a strangled cry, barely able to hear Arthur over the roaring in his ears. Gwaine drank deeply, humming against his skin with pleasure as Merlin writhed under his hands, stars beginning to dance across his vision.

“Gwaine! You'll kill him!” The fear in Arthur's voice cut through everything else, and Merlin looked over at him with unfocused eyes.

Gwaine laughed against Merlin's skin, and stood.

“Have a little faith, Arthur,” he chided as he moved around behind Merlin. “I have more self-control than that. He's much too precious to _kill_.”

Merlin flinched, closing his eyes as Gwaine's hands ran over his ass, and the vampire laughed again.

“You are _so_ very responsive,” he whispered in Merlin's ear, before sinking down behind him.

Gwaine's nose brushed over the bare skin of Merlin's ass, and Merlin jerked forward with a cry as Gwaine bit into his left cheek; this time, instead of sucking, the vampire licked the wound, rubbing his nose in the blood as he lapped it up. Merlin's legs gave out as Arthur called his name, over and over; the manacles bit into his wrists and he felt thin lines of blood trickle down his arms as Gwaine moaned into his skin.

“One more, I think,” the vampire murmured eventually, his fingers slipping between Merlin's cheeks and spreading him wide.

Merlin gasped in panic as cool air brushed over his entrance. “N-no! P-please!”

Gwaine chuckled, before sinking his fangs into the skin on either side of Merlin's hole.

The pain was blinding—Merlin felt something in his throat tear as he screamed, thrashing violently as Gwaine held him in place. The vampire sucked at his hole greedily and Merlin's vision swam; Arthur's screams were daggers in his skull as he felt his entire body starting to go limp.

Then Gwaine stood, pulling Merlin against him. He reached down between their bodies and Merlin heard the sound of a zipper being undone, before Gwaine's fingers dipped between his cheeks again and rubbed over the wound the vampire had left.

“Almost over now, little hawk.” Gwaine's mouth was hot and wet on his ear, his lips stained with Merlin's blood. One of his fingers pressed against Merlin's hole before brushing over the bite mark again, and Merlin knew with sick, dazed certainty what was about to happen.

“No,” he moaned weakly as the vampire's now-slippery fingers withdrew.

Gwaine huffed a laugh into his hair as something much larger than a finger pressed between Merlin's cheeks.

“Yes,” he hissed in Merlin's ear, shoving his blood-slicked cock deep into Merlin's body.

Merlin was too far gone even to scream as the vampire violated him; the searing, tearing pain stole his breath, and he could only whimper brokenly as Gwaine pounded into him over and over.

“ _Fuck_ ,” the vampire moaned, “You're still _so tight._ If you'd been mine from the start, I'd have fucked you _useless_ by now.” He paused, buried deep inside Merlin, and through a fog of pain, Merlin felt him turn to face Arthur.

“You must have the self-restraint of a saint,” Gwaine said mockingly. “What a _waste._ ” He started moving again, and Merlin sobbed as fire radiated through him with each thrust. He felt himself beginning to slip away, and turned his head to the side, searching for...

“Arthur,” he moaned, somehow finding the vampire's grief-stricken blue eyes despite the patches of black skating across his vision.

Then Gwaine's fangs sank into his neck, and the world faded away.

  



	18. Chapter 18

"...-lin, you _have_ to drink, _please_..."

Words flashed in and out of the dark haze in Merlin's mind, penetrating the fog surrounding his thoughts before vanishing in flashes of pain.

"...rry, I'm so sorry, Merlin, _drink_..."

The blood was hot and thick in his mouth, and Merlin gagged.

"That's it, come on, just a little more..."

He tried to open his eyes, but everything hurt too much, and it was so much easier just to sink back down into the darkness.

* * *

When Merlin woke again, he was lying on the ground, too exhausted to move. Something cold and heavy was pressed against his back, partially on top of him, and he struggled weakly to see what it was.

Arthur lay behind him, cold and limp, one arm draped over Merlin's chest. Merlin felt a scream of terror well up inside him as he focused on Arthur's slack face, but he couldn't summon the energy to voice it. His mouth tasted metallic, and his stomach heaved; awareness of the dead flesh behind him, the blood on his lips, and the throbbing ache that persisted inside him swirled through his mind, plunging him down into a sea of despair and leaving him to drown.

* * *

The late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window and on to Lance's ratty old couch was completely at odds with the fear and tension singing through his veins. Gwen paced the room in front of him, unable to sit still; by unspoken agreement, they'd gone back to his place after the bar had closed the night before. Lance didn't really think that Gwen would be stupid enough to go after Merlin and Morgana on her own, but he didn't want to risk it. Neither of them had slept much at all, but it was definitely better to be sleepless together than alone.

"This is so fucked up," Gwen said for the hundredth time. "I fuckin' _hate_ vampires!"

Lance made a wordless sound of agreement. Elyan's confession had shaken them both, but luckily his stories about dealing with Gwaine—heavily edited, Lance had no doubt—were chilling enough to convince Gwen not to raid _Vampelot_ during the night. But then she'd wanted to attack during the day, while the vampires were incapacitated. Lance had been inclined to agree with her...at least until Elyan had described the human day guards that Gwaine kept around, doped up on V and armed to the teeth, for situations just like this. That had changed things, in Lance's opinion, and they'd been able to persuade Gwen to wait until the coming night, when they could disguise themselves as regular bar patrons and try to sneak inside that way.

They'd managed to pass most of the day by hitting first a hardware store and then a gun store, buying as many guns as they could without raising a red flag. Gwen had shown him how to modify the guns to kill vampires, which had taken several hours; unfortunately, they'd finished quite a while ago, and had nothing to do but sit and wait for night to fall.

Lance had invited Elyan over as well, but he'd glanced at Gwen's face and said he'd rather put his affairs in order at home. Lance couldn't really blame him; Gwen hadn't taken Elyan's confession as badly as she could have, but he doubted she wanted to spend quality time with her brother at the moment.

With a growl of frustration, Gwen stopped pacing to go over their arsenal one more time, and Lance wished desperately for the sun to set.

* * *

“Rise and shine!” Gwaine's voice rang out gleefully, and Merlin startled awake. Arthur's arms clenched around him as he jerked upright; the vampire was sitting with his back to the wall, holding Merlin to his chest. Dimly, Merlin realized the sun must have set; he'd slept away the entire day.

“Well, little hawk,” Gwaine said with a smirk as he stopped in front of them. “It seems that your blood is indeed as powerful as I'd hoped. It's been so long since I felt the sun...” he trailed of, smiling viciously at Arthur.

“And to think, you were going to keep this treasure to yourself,” he sneered. “Not that the idea isn't tempting, but somehow I doubt it's worth the consequences.”

Arthur remained silent, but his arms tightened protectively around Merlin. Merlin shrank back against him as Gwaine reached for him; ignoring Arthur's growl, Gwaine pulled Merlin to his feet, gripping him firmly as he swayed. Still dazed and weak, he couldn't do anything more than writhe half-heartedly as Gwaine manhandled him into a shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Shall I bind them?” Morgause appeared behind Gwaine, and Gwaine scanned Merlin's face thoughtfully.

“Arthur, yes. I'll take Merlin myself.”

He pulled Merlin to him; Merlin struggled weakly in his arms, but Gwaine just laughed.

“None of that,” he said, his tongue flicking across Merlin's ear. Merlin heard Arthur hiss in pain, and looked up to see a gloved Morgause clasp him in silver cuffs. Undoing his chain from the wall, she held it like a leash and smiled over at Gwaine.

Gwaine's voice slithered over his skin as the vampire held him tight. “And now, little hawk, I'm afraid we have to be going. We really don't want to be late...”

Before Merlin could respond, he was swept up and away into the night.

* * *

“...gana!”

Morgana eyelids fluttered, and she moaned.

“Morgana!”

Eyes still shut, her mouth twisted with pain—the voice calling her was unfamiliar and _too loud,_ and she wanted to sleep…

“ _Morgana!_ Wake up!” The voice was getting louder, cutting through the confused haze in her mind. With another moan, she opened her eyes slowly.

She was lying on her side on the floor, hands and ankles bound with rough rope. She ached all over; her entire body shivered uncontrollably, and she coughed around the dryness in her throat.

“Oh, thank _God_!”

Blinking blearily over the erratic beating of her heart, she raised her head and looked around. She was in the middle of a small, dark room, surrounded by what looked like hundreds of cardboard boxes.

“Morgana, you gotta help me!”

Finally, seeking out the source of the persistent, painful voice, Morgana's eyes settled on the frightened face of a young girl who was chained to a chair.

“Who're you?” she mumbled weakly.

“Freya, I'm Arthur's Child an' they took him away, dunno where exactly, but I can _find_ him, I think he's, like, _callin'_ me, or somethin', or maybe I can just feel him cuz he made me, but you gotta get over here and get these fuckin' silver chains off me so I can—”

Morgana winced, and turned away. Too _loud._

Freya made a frustrated noise. “An' you're, like, fuckin' _detoxin'_ , or somethin', but you gotta get the fuck over it cuz they took Merlin too—”

Her brother's name cut through the pain, sending a jolt of ice water down her spine. The vision flashed across her mind again— _No! Don't hurt him!_ —and she struggled against her bonds.

“We gotta save Merlin.” Her voice shook, but was growing stronger.

Freya nodded encouragingly. “Yeah, I know. Morgause left in a rush; I think she dropped the keys to my chains by the door—”

Morgana followed the direction of her gaze; sure enough, a set of keys was lying on the floor. Moving with aching slowness, she wriggled over to them, rolling on top of them and just managing to grab them with the tips of her fingers.

It felt like it took hours to get over to where Freya was chained, but the young vampire's encouragement, coupled with her fear for Merlin, kept her going. Once she'd made it to her knees in front of Freya, she paused.

“'Fore I let you go, you gotta promise me somethin'.” She was starting to get the vague glimmer of a plan, and Freya made an impatient noise. Morgana ignored her and continued. “You can't just go runnin' off, you gotta take me somewhere first.” Her voice grew more confident as the plan sharpened in her mind.

“We're gonna need backup. Backup with  _guns_.”

* * *

“Because _Vampelot_ don't even open ‘til ten—if we show up at eight, you can be damn sure they're gonna notice!”

Lance flinched as Elyan and Gwen shouted back and forth in the parking lot. Elyan had met up with them thirty minutes ago, just after dark, and Gwen had wanted to leave immediately. They'd been fighting ever since.

“I don't give a damn!” Gwen yelled back. “We've been waiting all fuckin' day, an' we got no idea what's happenin' to them! We gotta go _now_!”

“Won't do much good, we ain't there anymore.”

Lance spun on his heel, eyes wide, to see Morgana standing right behind them. Her arm was draped over the shoulder of a young girl who was obviously supporting her—Lance recognized the girl as Gwaine's hostage from the night before.

“They took Merlin an' Arthur somewhere. We gotta go get them,” Morgana was saying as Gwen and Elyan stared her. “This is Freya. She's Arthur's Child, an' she can track them.”

The girl—vampire—offered them all a shy smile and a tiny wave with her free hand.

Lance was still too shocked to speak, but Gwen didn't have the same problem. She eyed the vampire suspiciously, before focusing grimly on Morgana. “Then let's fuckin' _go._ ”

“Wait!” The word burst out of Lance's mouth without thought, and he swallowed nervously as they all turned to look at him.

“Before we go, there's somethin' I gotta tell you guys...”

* * *

Even without looking, Merlin could tell Gwaine was glaring at the impassive vampire in front of them.

“Tell her it can't wait,” he snarled, his lips nearly brushing over Merlin's ear.

The guard didn't flinch. “She's in a meeting.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Gwaine's lip curl.

“With who?” he snapped.

“Sheriffs Cenred and Mordred.”

“This is more important!”

Merlin winced as Gwaine's voice rose. The guard remained unmoved.

They were standing in the foyer of a huge, old manor. Merlin didn't know exactly where they were—with as fast as vampires could travel, they could be almost anywhere—but he was pretty sure they were still in Louisiana. They'd barely been allowed inside, much to Gwaine's obvious irritation, and now they were prevented from going any further.

Gwaine held Merlin against his chest, confining and supporting him as Merlin sagged with exhaustion. Morgause and Arthur stood slightly behind them, with Morgause still holding Arthur's chain in a gloved hand. Merlin tried to look back, to catch Arthur's eye, but Gwaine's hand came up and gripped him under the chin, forcing him to stare at the guard in front of them.

“Tell her it's about _Arthur_ and his little _pet_ ,” Gwaine hissed. “She'll want to see us at once.”

The guard looked Gwaine up and down disdainfully, and nodded to another guard behind him. The second guard left through the double-paneled wooden doors, and Gwaine's grip on Merlin's neck relaxed slightly.

“Wait in here,” the guard instructed brusquely, leading them to a side room. Arthur and Morgause entered first, with Merlin and Gwaine close behind them.

“She's gonna keep us waiting as long as she damn well pleases,” Morgause stated, sounding bored. Merlin's eyes fell on Arthur in time to see him flinch, and Gwaine laughed.

“Not when she hears that Arthur's involved,” he said with satisfaction. “We'll only be here for a few minutes.” He tightened his grip on Merlin, forcing Merlin against him roughly. “It's a bit of a shame, actually,” he purred in Merlin's ear. “I would have enjoyed more time with you, little hawk. Ah, well, I'll just have to treasure the memory of what we shared last night.”

Merlin felt bile rise in the back of his throat as Gwaine's hips ground against him; Arthur stared at the floor, but Merlin could see the anger radiating out from his tense frame.

“If only we'd had more time together,” Gwaine continued, “I could have made you feel so good...”

One of his hands slid down Merlin's chest and over his stomach, dipping between his legs and cupping his groin. Merlin bit his lip, not wanting to give the vampire the satisfaction of reacting, and Gwaine began to rub him through his jeans.

Arthur's eyes snapped up, rage burning in their blue depths as he stared at the other vampire. Merlin saw him bite his lip as well, and looked away, a flush rising on his cheeks as Gwaine stroked him skillfully.

“Oh, come now, Arthur,” Gwaine grinned. “Your little bond is telling you how much he's enjoying this, isn't it? Would you begrudge him this last bit of pleasure, before—?”

“I'm not enjoyin' it!” Merlin spat out, cheeks flaming even as his own body betrayed him under Gwaine's hand.

The vampire laughed. “Of course you're not,” he said soothingly, squeezing Merlin's half-hard cock. “I'm sure Arthur believes you completely.”

“Gwaine!” Arthur ground out. “Enough!”

Gwaine laughed again and sucked a hot kiss underneath Merlin's ear.

“I'm going to miss you, little hawk,” he murmured, just as the door opened.

“She's ready for you,” the guard said in a flat voice.

Merlin couldn't meet Arthur's eyes as they were led out of the room.

* * *

Stopping his truck in front of the iron gates, Lance swallowed nervously. Freya reached over and patted his hand, and he tried not to flinch away.

“You're gonna have to do better than that,” she said apologetically. “If I'd really glamoured you, you'd be lookin' pleased as punch, not scared outta your mind.”

Lance nodded, trying to force himself to relax. Freya watched him carefully, before nodding. “That's better. Can you look, I dunno, a little more vacant, or somethin'?”

When he finally managed to look harmless enough to satisfy her, she gave him the go-ahead to drive through the gates and onto the sprawling property.

They were stopped by a pair of guards, and Lance tried to will his heartbeat to slow down as they approached. From the guns they were carrying, he guessed they were human, but he didn't want to raise suspicion either way.

“State your business,” one of the guards barked out.

Leaning across Lance's lap, Freya smiled out the window. “I was told to bring him here,” she said sweetly. “Special present for—” She nodded at the manor house at the end of the long driveway.

The guard looked at Lance skeptically. “He don't look like her usual type.”

Freya shrugged. “Ain't for us to question, right?”

After a tense moment in which Lance forgot how to breathe, the guard nodded and stepped back. Lance drove away slowly, and the guards didn't think to check what—or who—may have been concealed under the tarps in the bed of the truck.

* * *

The guard led them up to the large set of double doors at the end of the hall, and Merlin blinked at the brightness that spilled out as the doors opened. Gwaine pushed him forward into the room, and despite his pain and fear, his breath caught with wonder—before them was a ballroom easily as large as his entire house. Marble columns lined the walls, framing an open floor that led to a small stage-like platform along the back wall. The entire room was lit as bright as day, and the golden light washed over the three figures standing in the back of the room. The figures, a woman and two men, turned to face them as one, and Merlin's eyes flickered over them fearfully as Gwaine walked him forward.

The men stood on the floor in front of the platform; both had dark hair, but one was tall and tanned, and the other was short and pale. The tall man leered at him, the leather he wore creaking as he shifted his weight, and Merlin shuddered under his stare. The smaller, younger-looking man regarded him with solemn eyes that betrayed nothing.

As they neared, his gaze was drawn to the woman, who stood regally on top of the platform. He blinked in surprise—she seemed familiar, like he'd seen her before, but he couldn't remember where…

Her eyes were cold in her pale face as she dismissed him with a look. Her long, dark hair flowed across her shoulders as her attention shifted to Gwaine, and then he had it—

“You're—” he gasped, “the vampire from—”

Gwaine's grip tightened painfully, and he broke off with a cry.

Nimueh Queen, leader of the American Vampire League, didn't spare him a second glance. Looking over Gwaine's shoulder, her beautiful face darkened and her mouth twisted with displeasure.

“Sheriff Gwaine,” she said in a soft, deadly voice, “why is my Child bound with silver?”

  



	19. Chapter 19

“Where _are_ we?” Lance heard Gwen hiss as they sneaked out from behind a shed. Under Freya's guidance, he'd parked behind the manor, and Gwen, Morgana and Elyan had stared in shock when they emerged from the bed of the truck. Now, Freya motioned them to follow her; Gwen and Elyan went eagerly, but Lance didn't miss the way Morgana's hands trembled around her guns as the two of them brought up the rear. He turned to her solicitously, but she'd apparently been taking mind-reading lessons from Merlin, because she just scowled back.

“I'm _fine_ ,” she snapped, before he had a chance to say anything. He raised an eyebrow, but stayed quiet.

Up ahead, Freya signaled for them to stop. They pressed against the side of the manor as Freya peeked around the corner. Not for the first time, Lance wondered if they were all going to their deaths. Gwen, Elyan and Morgana each carried two vampire-ready guns, and he and Freya planned to rely on their other…skills…but the odds were still most definitely against them.

He sighed quietly, and studied the back of Gwen's head as she watched Freya scope out the next part of the trek. Everyone seemed to have taken his revelation in stride, but it also could have been shock. Either way, the look Gwen had shot him promised that they were going to have a little ‘chat’ as soon as this was over.

If they survived.

“Where are we?” Gwen asked again when Freya turned back to them.

“The Queen's mansion,” Freya whispered. “I’ve been here once before, the night I got turned.” Seeing their looks of confusion, she explained hurriedly. “We—vamps, I mean—got our own government, like y'all do. One 'kingdom', I guess, per state, an' whenever you move to a new kingdom, you gotta make nice with the ruler there.” She shrugged. “So Arthur brought me here.”

Before that could really sink in, she started off again, and they scrambled to follow. They entered a side door that led to a long hallway, and made a pleased noise.

“We're close to the throne room,” she murmured. “I'm pretty sure that's where Arthur is. He's prob'ly with the Queen, she never leaves there if she can help it.”

“How come?” Elyan whispered curiously as they crept down the hall.

“She got it all painted an' lit up to look like daytime. Arthur said she'd obsessed with the day, wishes she was human again, he thinks. Said she was in love with a human once an' went kinda crazy after she...” She paused. “He don't like her much. Don't think she likes him either. I'm way luckier.”

“Why?” asked Gwen, sounding intrigued despite herself.

Freya shrugged. “Cuz Arthur's kinda stiff, but he's been real good to me. And if you get stuck with a bad Maker, you're fucked for all eternity. Come on, we gotta be quiet now.”

They followed her through the manor without another sound.

* * *

“Arthur has betrayed you, your Highness.” Gwaine's ringing voice echoed in the air around them, assaulting Merlin's ears as his heart pounded in his chest.

Arthur's Maker. He'd never said her name, or that she was famous, or nearby, or even still ‘alive’—when he'd told Merlin the story of how he'd been turned, he made it sound like she was completely out of the picture, but here she was—

Nimueh's mouth twisted. “How so?” she asked coldly, her eyes locked on Gwaine.

Gwaine shifted against him. “Arthur found out that his pet,” he shook Merlin once, for emphasis, “has certain…abilities, but instead of bringing him to you immediately, he tried to run. Luckily, I was able to… _detain_ them for you.”

Nimueh looked Merlin up and down, her expression still impassive, but a strange light began to gleam in her eyes.

“Release Arthur,” she commanded after a moment.

Merlin heard the sound of chains falling to the floor; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur pitch forward, onto his hands and knees, beside Gwaine.

“Come here.” Nimueh's tone was soft, poisonous. Head bowed, Arthur crawled forward, onto the platform. The other vampires standing by Nimueh watched him with twin expressions of contempt as he knelt at her feet silently, looking at the ground.

Nimueh reached down, catching Arthur under the chin and tipping his head up to look her in the eyes. “My disobedient, hateful little Child,” she murmured, her thumb stroking over his cheek. “Always so defiant.” Her lips turned down in a mock-pout. “If it wasn't still so gratifying to see Uther Pendragon's son cower at my feet, I would have gotten rid of you decades ago.”

Arthur remained silent, but Merlin could see a shudder race across his body.

“Now, Arthur,” Nimueh continued, almost gently, “what were your orders?”

“To track the bloodline of Balinor Emrys.” The words sounded like they'd been torn from his throat; Merlin started at the sound of his father's name.

“And?” Nimueh prodded.

“To determine if his bloodline bred true.” Arthur's tone was harsh, clipped.

“How?”

Arthur was silent, his entire body shaking as he fought not to answer.

“ _How_ , Arthur?”

“By…by finding...”

“By finding his son, and seducing him into letting you bite him,” Nimueh snapped impatiently.

The bottom fell out of Merlin's world.

“And then,” Nimueh continued, her words sounding faint and far away. “You were to determine if the Dragonlord blood from his father's side of the family was strong enough in him to affect us, and bring him to me if it was. Correct?”

“Y-yes,” Arthur whispered.

Dragonlord blood? Merlin jerked with surprise—what the _fuck_ did _that_ mean?—but Nimueh continued before he could could draw breath to ask.

“Well?” Her voice was steel. “Is his blood strong enough?”

Arthur shut his eyes. “Yes.”

“Then why is _Sheriff Gwaine_ the one delivering the boy to me?”

Arthur's eyes flew open, wide and wild; Nimueh gazed down at him in disgust.

“Ah, yes. Your little _bond_ ,” she said, voice dripping with contempt. “I clearly recall telling you that the fact you'd bonded with him would make no difference if his blood would allow me to walk in the sun. Did you really think you could defy me?”

Arthur just stared at her.

Nimueh released his chin, and he shrank into himself. “I had wondered why it was taking you so long to convince him to let you bite him,” she said reflectively, glancing over at Merlin again. “Judging by how stricken he looks, my guess is he truly does care for you. He would have let you bite him weeks ago, wouldn't he?”

Arthur nodded jerkily.

Nimueh shook her head in disappointment. “I suppose you were trying to resist the temptation, to keep from finding out either way?” Her voice lowered mockingly. “Plausible deniability?”

Arthur stared at the ground.

Merlin's heart began to pound, fear and betrayal racing through him.

Arthur. Arthur _knew._ Arthur knew what he was, had known all along, had been sent to—

The room spun as his breathing quickened. He sagged in Gwaine's arms, his vision going flat and too bright as everything seemed to fall away.

“Well.” Nimueh regarded Arthur coldly. “You will be punished, of course. But first, you will watch as I drain your precious little pet dry.”

Arthur's head snapped up. “Maker, _please_ —!”

“Restrain him.”

Then the strange vampires were dragging Arthur to his feet, pinning him between them. A cruel smile flashed over Nimueh's face as Arthur struggled in vain.

“There's a certain symmetry to it, isn't there?” she asked calmly, brushing a finger over Arthur's lips. “Now you too will learn what it means to be truly helpless, to be prevented from saving the one you love.”

“No! Nimueh!” Arthur's voice was panicked— _terrified_.

“Bring me the Dragonlord.” Nimueh's voice was flat, unmoved by Arthur's frantic pleas.

Fear shot through Merlin like ice water, pulling him back into his body. He struggled desperately as Gwaine pressed him forward.

“I should warn you, your Highness, he has a few tricks up his sleeve,” the vampire said in an amused tone. Then his lowered his mouth to Merlin's ear. “But seeing as I still have his sister tucked safely away in _Vampelot,_ it would be to his advantage _not_ to employ them.”

Merlin's breath caught in his throat as Nimueh reached for him. Her face lit up with fierce, wild joy as she pulled him away from Gwaine, spinning him around and pressing his back into her chest. Her grip was tighter than Gwaine's; pain flashed through his shoulder as he felt his bones grind together under her fingers.

“Your father had the highest level of Dragonlord blood I've seen in any human since the Great Dragon Massacre,” she murmured into his ear. “When he disappeared shortly after his twentieth birthday, I thought I'd lost him forever. Imagine my surprise to find out that not only had he survived, he'd hidden both himself and his young family from me for nearly a decade. Pity he died before…but it doesn't matter now.” She paused, running her fingernails over his neck. “By draining you, I will be the first vampire to spend an entire day in the sun in nearly one hundred years.”

He heard the soft _snick_ of her fangs extending; Arthur's screams seemed very far away as his blood pounded in his ears.

“You smell like the sun,” Nimueh whispered, before sinking her fangs into his throat...

Just as all hell broke loose.

* * *

“I can take 'em,” Gwen whispered, motioning at the two vampire guards standing outside the double doors.

Freya nodded sharply. “You get them, I'll get the doors—”

“—an' I'll go in first.” Lance's tone was grim, expecting the others to argue, but they just nodded.

“We'll cover you,” put in Morgana, and Elyan scooted over to crouch next to her.

Face breaking into a feral grin, Gwen turned to Lance. “Whenever you're ready—”

Lance shifted.

* * *

The screams hit Merlin's ears just before the sound of gunfire; the vampire guards along the back wall sprang into action as the doors flew open—

Roaring like thunder, a grizzly bear burst into the room. The first vampire exploded into a shower of gore, easily decapitated by one swipe of a massive paw. The other vampires drew back, stunned; Nimueh's head snapped up, tearing tracks through Merlin's skin, as she shrieked out orders.

Reeling from pain, Merlin couldn't comprehend what was happening—

“Merlin!”

Gwen's voice cut through the chaos, reaching his ears over the gunfire, screams, and feral roaring of the bear. Blinking weakly, Merlin struggled to focus on the fight before him.

The vampire guards pressed forward again, three of them darting in to attack the bear. The remaining two, along with Gwaine and Morgause, were feinting at the other three figures, who stood back-to-back and fired wild shots at the vampires.

 _Gwen. Elyan._

 _Morgana!_

The bear roared again.

 _Lance._

Hope began to bubble up in Merlin's chest, just as a dark blur launched itself at the vampires holding Arthur. The smaller one was flung back, landing hard with someone on top of him—

 _Freya._

Merlin began to thrash in Nimueh's grip. She staggered slightly, before pulling him back against her.

“ _No!_ ” she hissed. “I _will_ have this!”

Her fangs plunged into his neck, rending and tearing at his flesh, and Merlin screamed. His entire body convulsed as Nimueh drained him, his life's blood spilling into her mouth, running down her chin. He was cold, so cold—

And then he was _warm_.

The sounds of the fight faded away, and something like peace settled over him.

Morgana was free.

Arthur had betrayed him.

Gwen, Lance and Elyan were fighting for him.

He felt tendrils of heat uncurl inside of his chest, flowing through his limbs, speeding through his veins, entering Nimueh along with his blood.

He didn't want to die.

The heat grew stronger inside of him, scorching and searing and burning like fire.

 _No._

With the last of his strength, he forced the heat _out, away, into_ the vampire feeding from his neck.

Then he was falling; with a cry, Nimueh flung him away, staggering back along the platform. Crashing to his knees, he looked up weakly into her horrified, panicked face.

“What have you _done_?” she screamed…

…before bursting into flames.

Everything stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw the vampires standing, frozen like statues, as their Queen burned before them. The humans—and Lance-the-bear—had stopped as well, staring in shock at the pile of ashes where Nimueh had been.

Then Arthur was there, pulling Merlin up and into his arms, before turning to face the room.

“My human has killed the Queen.” Arthur's voice rang out, commanding and strong, in the horrified silence around them. “As is my right, I claim the throne of Louisiana.”

As one, the vampires' eyes snapped to him.

Arthur didn't flinch. “Kneel before your King.”

The guards knelt first.

Next to them on the platform, the two strange vampires followed.

Then, faces twisting with hate, Gwaine and Morgause sank to their knees.

From where she crouched on the floor, Freya crawled over to them and looked up at Arthur with wonder. He reached down and laid his hand on her head, still holding Merlin with his other arm.

“Allow the humans to leave unharmed.” His voice was harsh. “And clean up that mess.” He nodded towards Nimueh's smoldering remains.

Slowly, the guards moved to obey. The other vampires stayed on their knees; ignoring them, Arthur cradled Merlin against him gently, fingers brushing over the wounds in Merlin's neck.

“Merlin—” he began softly. He looked into Merlin's eyes, something fierce and bright burning in his gaze—

Deep inside Merlin, something snapped.

In the space of a single breath, all the horror of the past months crashed over him: Valiant, lunging for him with hate burning across his face; Morgause, smiling as she dragged her fangs over Morgana's neck; Nimueh, plunging her fangs into him; Gwaine, laughing as he tore him apart...

And above all, Arthur, strong and tender and _false_ , betrayal on his lips each time he'd whispered heated words into Merlin's ear, lying to Merlin even as Merlin had begged to be claimed.

 _Never. Again._

With a strangled cry, he put both hands on Arthur's chest and _pushed_ —

Arthur flew back in a flash of light, slamming into the wall before crashing down, hard, onto the platform. The entire room froze as Merlin sank to his knees, hands outstretched, palms glowing with golden light.

“Don't _touch_ me,” he screamed as Arthur stared at him, hurt and shock written across his face. “Don't ever fuckin' touch me _again_!”

“Merlin—!” Arthur's voice was choked with pain as he reached out. Merlin scooted back jerkily, nearly falling off the platform.

“I _m-mean_ it!” he sobbed. “If you—or _any_ vampire— _ever_ touches me again, I'll—I'll _kill_ you! I'll kill you _all_!” He was crying uncontrollably, blinded by tears, entire body shaking as his heart twisted painfully in his chest.

The room was silent for a long moment, the sounds of his sobs echoing harshly in the air. Then he heard footsteps behind him, and twisted around violently.

“Hey, babe.” Gwen walked over to him warily, both guns pointed at Arthur. Elyan and a naked Lance followed behind her. “Wanna go home?”

Breath hitching in his throat, he nodded frantically, nearly falling off the platform and into Elyan's arms. Gwen covered them as Elyan and Lance helped him across the floor. Morgana fell into step next to Gwen, glaring at the vampires as they headed to the door.

“Don't even _think_ 'bout followin' us,” Gwen spat as they left the room.

Merlin didn't look back as the doors swung shut behind them.

  



	20. Chapter 20

When Merlin woke up, his head was in Gwen's lap and her fingers were tangled in his hair. They were on Merlin's bed, and Lance was sitting next to her. Raising his head slightly, Merlin saw that Gwen's head was resting on Lance's shoulder, and Lance had his arm around her. Both their eyes were closed, and their breathing was slow and steady.

Someone stirred next to him, and he glanced over; Morgana was curled up against his side, her eyes closed and her face relaxed in sleep. Merlin reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead, hoping her dreams were as peaceful as they seemed.

She'd confessed everything—the V, Edwin, Cedric, her visions—as soon as they'd made it to the truck.

Well, actually, she hadn't confessed _everything_ , at least, not to everyone…but she'd looked him straight in the eye as her thoughts revealed what she'd gone through at the hands of Morgause and Gwaine. Feeling even sicker than he'd felt in the manor, Merlin had pulled her into his arms and whispered that he _knew_ , he _understood_ , she was his _sister_ , of _course_ he forgave her.

“What time is it?” His voice felt harsh in his throat, and his neck ached; Gwen had bandaged him up when they got back to his house, but it still _hurt_. At the time, he'd been too exhausted to care, barely remembering to revoke Arthur's invitation before he collapsed into bed.

Now, however, the burning in his neck was strong enough that he didn't think he'd be able to go back to sleep.

“A little after nine a.m.” Elyan uncurled from the foot of the bed and wormed his way in between Merlin and Gwen, resting his head on his sleeping sister's thigh and looking Merlin in the eye. “How you feelin'?”

“Numb.” Merlin ducked his head. “Can't really feel anythin'.”

Elyan made a sympathetic noise, and reached out gingerly, placing his hand on Merlin's hip. Merlin felt the warmth of Elyan's palm through his jeans.

“Sounds 'bout right,” Elyan said softly, his thoughts swirling with concern and making Merlin's stomach clench.

Merlin made a noncommittal noise, and moved away slightly. “Gonna shower.”

Elyan's worried thoughts followed him out of the room.

* * *

Standing under the spray of the shower, Merlin shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against the wall. The hot water streamed down over his shaking body, but nothing could wash away the coldness inside him.

He felt unclean.

Wincing, he ran his fingers over his ribs, feeling the faint remains of the mark Gwaine had left. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he found the other marks, one by one—his hip, his thigh…

He reached around behind himself, but faltered before he could find the last two. His eyes flew open as his throat closed up; he couldn't breathe, he was drowning, there was no _air_...

Sinking to his knees, he let the hot water beat down on him as the panic receded slowly. He realized he was shaking, but it felt strange, like his body wasn't his. The only thing that felt real at all was the burning on his neck as the water soaked through his bandages.

He shut his eyes again and leaned back against the wall. Unbidden, images flashed across his vision—

Arthur, ducking his head to hide a smile.

Looking down at Merlin as they writhed together in bed.

Screaming with anguish as Gwaine plunged into Merlin.

Kneeling in front of his Maker.

Watching in pain as Merlin walked away.

With a cry that was almost a sob, Merlin opened his eyes, banishing the image of Arthur's face. A deep _need_ throbbed inside him— _go back, go back, find him!_ —but he pushed it away, clenching his hands into fists and gasping as his nails cut into his palms.

The pain cleared his head enough to think, rather than feel—the power inside of him woke slightly, like an animal stirring from slumber, calming the urge to fly back into Arthur's embrace. The thought of seeing the vampire again made him want to vomit even as his body craved Arthur's touch—it was the bond, trying to force him back into the arms of someone who'd betrayed his trust, kept deadly secrets from him, and nearly gotten him, and everyone he loved, killed.

But now, he was strong enough to fight it.

With a shuddering breath, Merlin reached out and turned off the water. The last of it ran down the drain, clear and pure, but in his mind, it was the color of blood.

* * *

The smell of bacon and eggs greeted him as he wandered downstairs, and his stomach roiled. Entering the kitchen, he saw Elyan at the stove as Gwen, Lance and Morgana sat around the breakfast table, picking listlessly at their plates. He sat down quietly, accepting the mug of coffee that Lance offered him, and consciously trying not to hear what everyone was thinking.

After a long moment, Lance cleared his throat.

“So,” he began awkwardly. “What now?”

And that was the question, wasn't it? Merlin wrapped his hands around his mug and stared down at the steaming liquid.

He had no idea what the answer was.

Morgana sighed. “I think I...” She paused.

Merlin looked up at her; she was staring down at the table, chewing her lip.

“What?” Gwen asked softly.

Morgana blinked rapidly, and Merlin saw tears pooling at the corner of her eyes. “I think I need help,” she said in a small voice.

The clatter as Elyan removed a pan from the stove made them all jump. He deposited the newest batch of eggs down on the table, and sat down next to Morgana.

“Me too,” he said quietly, taking her hand. “An' I know a place. Saw it on the news. First rehab facility for V south of the Mason-Dixon.”

Morgana looked up at him, hope on her face, and he squeezed her hand. “It's in Alabama. We could check in together, if you want.”

She nodded, and squeezed back.

Gwen and Lance exchanged a look.

“I think that's a great idea,” Lance said.

Merlin swallowed as a painful, yet resolute, thought made his chest tighten. “Me too.” He looked up and caught Morgana's eye. “I'll drive you guys there.”

Her brow furrowed. “Thanks, but it's pretty far, you don't gotta—”

“Morgana.” His voice was soft, but firm. “I'll drive you guys there.”

She looked at him, really looked at him, and nodded. “Okay.”

“Great.” Merlin sat back, a strange lightness stealing over him. “Let's take off before dark.”

* * *

Merlin paused in the doorway, looking around his house one last time. The windows were closed and locked; the contents of the fridge were loaded safely in Lance's truck. There were no dirty clothes or dishes to be seen. Everything was as it should be.

He turned off the hall light, and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. There wasn't much he wanted to take with him, in the end; most of the stuff in the house had too many memories. His parents. Gaius.

Arthur.

Sighing, he closed the door and locked it behind him. He almost pocketed the keys automatically, before catching himself and removing the house keys from the ring.

Morgana and Elyan were already in Morgana's car; they'd gone home to get what they'd need, and now they were just waiting for him. Lance and Gwen, still standing in the driveway, had wished them both a speedy recovery, and made them promise to write.

They hadn't made Merlin promise.

Which was good.

He would have hated to lie.

He tossed the keys to Gwen as he walked up to them. She caught them handily, and he offered her a small smile.

“Keep an eye on the place for me?”

She nodded, her eyes shiny. He turned to Lance, only to be pulled into an abrupt hug.

“Take care of yourself,” Lance said roughly. Merlin buried his face in Lance's shoulder and nodded.

Gwen came up to them, and wrapped her arms around them both. For a moment, Merlin was tempted to stay like this forever, safe and secure in the arms of two of the people he loved most in the world—

Then Morgana honked the horn, and he pulled away.

The sun would be setting soon.

Hugging them each again, he offered them both a wan smile and turned away before he could change his mind.

“Merlin?”

Gwen's voice made him turned around slowly. Lance's arm was around Gwen's shoulder, and Merlin's breath caught at the picture they made.

“We'll see you when you get back,” Gwen said in a quiet voice.

Smiling around the tears that clouded his vision, Merlin nodded weakly. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “When I get back.”

Then he turned, and walked over to the car. Morgana reached over from the passenger side and squeezed his knee; from the back seat, Elyan leaned forward and poked his head up between the seats.

“Let's get the fuck outta here,” he said.

Nodding once, Merlin put the car into gear, and they were gone.

* * *

Lance watched them go, his throat tight as the car disappeared around a bend in the road. Beside him, Gwen shifted.

“Think we'll ever see him again?” she asked sadly.

Lance pressed a kiss into her hair. “I hope so.”

They stood there for a long moment, just holding each other in the last rays of the setting sun.

Then Gwen pulled away, and looked up at him with a watery smile. “Hey, don't we owe each other a drink, or somethin'?”

Lance laughed in spite of himself, the cold lump in his heart warming slightly as he looked down at her. “Reckon we do,” he said slowly. “My place, or yours?”

Gwen just smiled softly, and took his hand. Without another word, they headed over to his truck. Gwen settled in next to him, ignoring her seat belt in favor of pressing against his side; tucking her under his arm, Lance pulled out onto the road.

Birds sang, insects buzzed, and the lazy evening breeze rustled through the trees as they drove away.

  



	21. Epilogue

_Fifteen years later ..._

  
Arthur Pendragon, King of Louisiana, head of the American Vampire League, and founder of the Louisiana Alliance of Humans and Vampires (LAHV, an acronym used earnestly by supporters and ironically by detractors), could not get his damned tie off fast enough. His image consultant had assured him that it would look fantastic on television and promised to record the CNN interview he'd just given, but he had no intention of watching it. It didn't matter how many late-night TV appearances he gave, how many press conferences he threw, or how many photo opportunities he staged—he _hated_ putting himself on display like that.

Throwing his tie onto the floor in a fit of piqued rebellion, he ran a hand through his hair. He really had no one to blame, and he knew it—he'd known that getting so involved with the human-vampire coexistence movement would come at the price of privacy, but he hadn't expected to be catapulted into the limelight quite so forcefully. Unfortunately, it seemed the human media—and their customers— found his combination of looks, intelligence, and power endlessly fascinating.

The worst was when the reporters inevitably asked him what had led him to suddenly become such a tireless supporter of the coexistence movement after spending almost a century and a half as a vampire. Usually, he managed to deflect them with bland aphorisms about justice and honor and a blindingly charming smile, before quoting the latest numbers about the decrease in vampire-on-human violence, and the success of programs such as ‘Safe, Sane, and Consensual Feeding’ (SSCF), which had been piloted to great success by Sheriff Freya at her bar, _Vampelot_ over seven years ago. The reporters always nodded and smiled; his charm, along with the faintest hint of glamour, ensured that no one bothered to dig deeper into his motivation or his past.

Tonight, however, the question hadn't even come up. It was the tenth anniversary of LAHV, and the first time he had appeared in public with all five of his Sheriffs at the same time. Freya had been absolutely perfect, charming everyone she met; once again, he spared a moment of thanks for his Child, his one rock and comfort over the past decade and a half. The other four Sheriffs, who he'd appointed shortly after claiming the throne, had been impressive as well. Percival was thoughtful and contemplative; Galahad was beautiful and idealistic; Kay was solid and reliable; and Elena was witty and down-to-earth. The media had been thoroughly taken with all of them, and he'd almost felt like Morgana for a moment, seeing the future of human-vampire relations brighten before him, as inevitable as the dawn.

The thought of Morgana made him pause—it was the first of the month, time for Freya's report. He walked across his office to the small table by the door; sure enough, the plain folder was exactly where it should be. He picked it up slowly, eyes skimming the contents in the last rays of early-morning moonlight as he stood by the window.

Morgana had had a record quarter, it seemed. Her life coach consultation practice was booming. Freya reported that she was still clean and sober, and her control over her visions was only increasing with age. Arthur shook his head slightly; he'd been surprised when her visions had continued after she'd gone off V, but V was unpredictable at best. When he'd tracked her and Elyan to the rehabilitation facility just days after they'd left Camelot, he'd been pleased to see how much progress they'd made even after so short a time.

Now, so many years later, the lingering guilt he felt when he thought of what vampires had cost Morgana was somewhat assuaged by the knowledge that she was doing so well.

Turning to the next page, he glanced over the update on Elyan, eyebrows raising in pleased surprise. Elyan's restaurant had once again received Zagat's highest rating, and he'd started exploring the possibility of opening another location in Manhattan, this time on the Upper West Side, to go along with his flagship restaurant the Village. Arthur made a mental note to speak to his contacts; when Elyan first moved to New York, it had only taken a single visit for Arthur to explain to several prominent members of the NYC vampire community how much good press the coexistence movement stood to gain from investing in human businesses. If Elyan wondered why it had been so easy for him to acquire the necessary start-up capital, he'd never breathed a word.

The third sheet of paper in the file bore a single sentence: No status change. Arthur frowned, disappointed, but not surprised. While he'd still been reeling on that fateful night, Gwaine and Morgause had cut and run to Missouri. They'd sworn allegiance to King Bayard, and Arthur had been bound by Vampire Law and unable to make good on his threat.

But he was patient, and immortality lasted a long time.

The final sheet of paper had a snapshot attached to it; at the sight of it, something twisted in his chest. Lance and Gwen smiled up at him from the photo Freya had managed to acquire, but little Merlin glowered at the camera like the teenager he was fast becoming.

Tearing his eyes away from the image of the happy family in front their once-familiar home, he read the words without really taking them in. _Lancelot's_ was as successful as always, Gwen's gun store was doing a brisk trade, and Merlin was scoring at the top of his grade on all standardized tests. He'd be starting junior high next year, and was already talking about following one or both of his parents into the family businesses.

At the bottom of the page, scrawled in Freya's still-youthful script, was a footnote, seemingly attached as an afterthought.

 _Still no signs._

The three penciled words were innocuous enough if stumbled across accidentally, but Arthur nodded in satisfaction. Lance was still not “out” widely, and Arthur knew that he and Gwen both hoped their son would be able to grow up without needing to hide who he was. Since the boy had shown no signs of shifting by age twelve, it was likely their hopes would be realized.

As always, he felt the sharp pain of old loss burst in his chest, triggered by the sight of the child whose name held an entire universe of memories. He supposed it was natural for Gwen and Lance to remember their friend in the act of naming their son, who had coincidentally been born one year to the day after Merlin— _his_ Merlin—had died.

Tears of blood gathered in the corner of his eyes at the memory, and he tilted his head back to keep them from running down his cheeks and ruining his shirt.

How many times had he wished he could change the past? How many times had he wished he'd ignored Merlin's threat and gone after him? How much would he have given to hold Merlin in his arms, just one last time?

But no, he'd forced himself to finally do what was best for Merlin—to respect Merlin's decision. Even when Merlin had left. Even when Merlin had gone far, so _very_ far, away. Even when he could _feel_ Merlin's sadness, and anger, and pain. He'd hoped—prayed, though he didn't know to who, or what—that one day, Merlin would understand. Would come back. Would forgive him.

And then, it was too late.

He remembered as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Two years after Merlin had left Camelot, he and Freya had just gone to ground at the manor when sudden _pain_ , like the fire of thousand suns, had ripped through him, wrenching him from oblivion and nearly catapulting him out into the daylight, before Freya tackled him to the ground with blood streaming from her nose. He'd killed two of his human guards in blind rage as the bond—the only thing he had left of Merlin, the only way he'd been able to track Merlin at all, the only thing that allowed him to exist without going mad—shattered, leaving him broken and alone and consumed with grief.

Death was the only thing that could break the bond between a human and a vampire. Arthur _knew_ this, but he'd still sent out as many of his vampires as he could spare, searching for any hint of what had happened to Merlin. Not surprisingly, the sudden influx of over fifty Louisianan vampires into the Ukraine had caused no small stir among the international vampire community. It had taken some doing to smooth everything over, and it had all been in vain, in the end—no one had been able to find so much as the slightest trace of Merlin.

It was as though he'd never been.

In the thirteen years that had passed since that day, Arthur had tried countless times to convince himself that it had never happened, that he'd never met a young man named Merlin, that he'd never been foolish enough to bond with a human.

That he'd never fallen in love.

Sometimes, he almost managed to believe it. But then he'd find himself staring at nothing at all, remembering how blue eyes had flashed when he teased, how slender arms had wrapped around him and held him close, how a laughing mouth had pressed eagerly against his.

At those times, he'd content himself with one of the legions of humans who were willing ‘blood donors’ in his court, drinking from them and fucking them as the mood struck. He tended to prefer redheads, these days. Short ones, female, with dark brown eyes and rounded bodies.

Nothing that could remind him of what he'd lost.

He dabbed at the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief, and it came away stained red. With a slight frown, he tossed it into the trash can in the corner and went to replace the folder on the table. Freya would be back for it by the end of the evening; it would disappear until the following month, and he would, once again, unsuccessfully try to block out his memories of the past.

His office was still dark when he finally started to head to his desk. When there were humans around, he turned on the lights as a courtesy, but otherwise he found that the moonlight was better suited to his moods. His chair, a modern-looking thing that he hated, but Freya said made him look regal, was swiveled around to face the window. He walked slowly over to it, reaching out to turn it towards the desk—

“Did you know,” came a slow, achingly familiar voice, “that us Dragonlords are pretty much immortal?”

Arthur froze as the chair spun around, and Merlin looked up at him. His lips were curved in a small smile, but his eyes were shadowed, dark; he stared at the vampire as the night itself seemed to crash down around them.

“I mean,” Merlin continued after a moment, “we can be killed, duh, which is why all y'all were able to wipe out all the purebloods in the first place, but besides vamps an' accidents, there ain't a whole lot that can do shit to us. An' we don't really age, either.”

Arthur's mouth was hanging open, and he closed it with a snap.

“I know, right?” Merlin drawled. “Turns out there's a metric fuckton of information out there in the world, if you just know where to look for it.”

Arthur watched, speechless, as Merlin got up from the chair and moved around to the opposite side of the desk. “Sorry. Didn't mean to take your seat, but I got tired of waitin' for you to get back.”

“ _Merlin_.” The word escaped, desperate and broken, before he could stop it.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Oh good, you _do_ remember me. I wasn't sure if you would, it was so long ago.”

Arthur bit his lip. “Fifteen years,” he said quietly. “I thought you were dead.”

Something flickered in Merlin's eyes. “Guess you thought wrong.”

Unable to hold Merlin's cool gaze, Arthur looked down at his desk. Questions raced through his mind— _Where did you go? What did you do? Why couldn't I_ find _you?_

“Why _now?_ ” was all he could manage.

Merlin bent down and picked up a black shoulder bag. “I got a present for you,” he said, his tone and face inscrutable. “Wanted to give it to you myself. Wasn't ready ‘til now.”

Reaching into the bag, he drew out what looked like a beer bottle with no label. “Drink up,” he said, tossing the bottle to Arthur.

Arthur caught the bottle automatically and turned it over in his hands. “What is it?”

Merlin made an annoyed noise. “Tell you _after_ you drink it.”

Fighting down the thought that Merlin had returned just to kill him—why wait fifteen years, why set it up like this?—Arthur unscrewed the cap and raised the bottle to his lips. Merlin watched him with open, avid curiosity as the first drop entered his mouth, and Arthur's eyes widened in shock.

“Merlin,” he choked out, “it tastes like—”

“Like me, right?” There was no mistaking how pleased Merlin's tone was. “Come on, drink up!”

Mind swirling with confusion, Arthur obeyed. The instant he was done, Merlin moved forward, stopping just inches away from him and staring deep into his eyes.

“What's it like?” he murmured, his breath ghosting across Arthur's lips. “How do you feel?”

Even without the bond, Merlin's nearness made Arthur's skin tingle as though he were alive. “It—I feel...” He stopped, assessing. “I feel…good,” he said carefully.

“Yeah? And?” Merlin sounded so eager, all trace of distance gone, and Arthur's eyes flashed down to his lips.

“A-and what?” he stammered.

“The _dawn_ , Arthur, can you feel the sun coming? Do you wanna go to ground?”

With a jolt, Arthur realized he didn't. A glance at the clock on the wall showed that dawn was rapidly approaching, but he had no urge to hide from it.

“No,” he said faintly.

“Fuck,” Merlin said, stepping back with a grin. “This shit might actually _work._ ”

“What shit? Merlin, what _was_ that stuff?”

Leaning a hip on Arthur's desk, Merlin crossed his arms. “I call it, 'Nu Blood'. Took five years to make, but I think we're finally ready to release it.”

Arthur felt like his legs were about to give out. Staggering forward, he sank down into his chair. “Nu Blood? Release it?” he repeated dully.

Merlin huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, Dr. Yamaguchi an' Will wanted to unveil it a couple months ago, but I told them we needed a real, er, 'live' test subject first, to make sure it worked perfectly.”

“Test subject.” The wood grain on Arthur's desk was fascinating, and made much more sense than the words coming from Merlin's mouth.

“Mmm-hmm.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Merlin move; he looked up to find Merlin in front of him, staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

“Watch the sun rise with me, Arthur,” he said softly.

Without a word, Arthur followed him out of the room.

* * *

  
Merlin flopped down on the edge of the roof, and Arthur settled down next to him gingerly, careful not to touch him. Merlin's eyes were fixed on the horizon, and Arthur studied him silently as they sat.

Just like he'd said, Merlin hadn't aged at all, but there was something different about him nonetheless. Worldly, wiser, jaded…Arthur didn't know, but he saw it in the flash of Merlin's eyes, the wry twist of his mouth as he turned to face Arthur.

“If this don't work, you're gonna fry,” he said casually. “So if you got any questions for me, fire away.”

Arthur looked away. “Where did you go?” he asked quietly.

Merlin huffed out a laugh. “You know where I went for the first two years, don't you? When we still—” he broke off, and Arthur flinched.

“I lost you in Kiev,” he said quietly.

“If I remember right, that was after London, Cardiff, Dublin, Glasgow, Paris, Marseilles, an' Oslo.” Merlin sounded thoughtful.

Arthur nodded.

“Well, I also went to Rabat, Cairo, Johannesburg, Capetown, Jerusalem, Mumbai, Shanghai, Bangkok, Seoul…don't remember in what order, prob'ly however I could hitchhike an' catch rides, an' I ended up in Tokyo.” He paused, and the silence between them lengthened.

“Why?” Arthur asked finally.

Merlin shrugged, and tucked his knees up under his chin, wrapping his around around them. “Tryin' to find out what I am.” He looked over at Arthur, eyes glittering in the fading moonlight. “Turns out I got the most Dragonlord blood in me of any human alive today. So Nimueh got that right.”

Arthur winced at his Maker's name. Merlin eyes flickered, and he continued. “But there's one thing 'bout me that no one's ever seen before. Or heard of. Hell, don't think it's ever happened before in the history of… _everythin'_.”

Arthur's voice was weak when he spoke. “What's that?”

Merlin's laugh was humorless. “I got bonded to a vamp. Funny thing is, no vamp's ever bothered to bond with a Dragonlord before. Y'all would just eat us up, never really kept us around long enough for anythin' else.”

“Oh.” Arthur's voice was barely a whisper.

“Yeah, they think that's why I was able to fry Nimueh an' stuff.”

“Who's 'they'?”

Merlin eyed him shiftily. “Folks who'd know. I ain't gonna tell you any more than that. Just in case.”

Arthur nodded.

Merlin watched him for a second. “Anyways, I got bonded to you, it amped up my powers or somethin', and no one's really sure what all that means. So I been workin' on controllin' them an' stuff, an' I'm gettin' pretty good at it. Can light fires on purpose now, an' move stuff with my mind. Got a handle on the thought-readin' now, too.”

“Oh. That's good,” Arthur said lamely.

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed. “So maybe the bond was a good thing after all.”

His voice gave nothing away, and Arthur looked over at him. “Then why did you break it?” he asked, more sharply than he intended.

Merlin returned his look, not backing down. “I didn't,” he said. “I just…muted it, for a while.”

Arthur stared at him. “That's not possible. I felt the bond _break_. I felt you _die_.”

Merlin winced. “Yeah, 'bout that. Messin' with the bond sucked for me too, but it ain't broken. I ain't strong enough to do _that_.” His expression became cautious. “I just needed to be on my own, you know? Needed to figure my shit out. I was pretty fuckin' pissed at you for lyin' to me, an' knowin' you could find me whenever you felt like it just made me hate you…so I've been suppressin' it, kinda.” He paused, and Arthur felt like he should say something, but he was stuck on the words Merlin had chosen.

 _Needed._

 _Was._

 _Made._

Not _Need. Am. Make._

There was a long pause in which Arthur tried not to let himself _hope_ for…anything. When Merlin finally broke the silence, his voice was quiet. “I wanted to see if I could change it. The bond, I mean.” He glanced over at the horizon. “Guess I should find out if it worked, huh?” he mumbled, more to himself than Arthur.

Arthur opened his mouth to ask what Merlin meant—

And then Merlin was _there._

Arthur jerked forward, nearly falling off the roof, as awareness crashed over him. Merlin was _there_ , next to him—he closed his eyes, able to _feel_ Merlin again for the first time in fifteen years, and felt thick tears start to run down his cheeks. He wanted to reach out, to _touch_ Merlin, but he was overcome by a wave of fear—what if Merlin rejected him, pushed him away again—?

“A-Arthur.” Merlin's voice, weak and wondering, cut through his shock, and Arthur forced himself to look over at him.

Merlin was staring at him, an expression of awe on his face. “Was it always like this, for you?” he breathed. “I—I can _feel_ you—”

He reached out hesitantly, brushing his fingertips over Arthur's cheeks. A jolt of pleasure so intense it was almost painful shot through Arthur.

“Merlin,” he moaned, his eyelids fluttering shut. “What did you _do?_ ”

“I _fixed_ it,” Merlin said, his voice sounding as wrecked as Arthur felt. “I never liked the idea that you could tell where I was an' what I was feelin' an' stuff, but I couldn't do the same with you…an' now...” He broke off, fingertips tracing the lines of Arthur's facing, ghosting over his eyes, running across his lips.

“Now I can feel you, too,” he whispered.

And then Merlin was on top of him, pressing him down onto his back on the roof, his tongue forcing its way into Arthur's mouth as Arthur clutched at him desperately. Arthur felt waves of lust and need rolling off of Merlin, and knew Merlin could feel the same from him—with an inarticulate cry, Arthur thrust upward, grinding their groins together as the first rays of the morning sun washed over them.

* * *

“You know,” Arthur said slowly, “I'm pretty glad that your Nu Blood worked.”

They lay in one of the guest beds in the manor, naked and wrapped in each other, as the mid-morning sun poured in through the open window. If it had been up to Arthur, they would still be up on the roof, but after they'd come together, grinding through their clothes like teenagers, Merlin had laughed and said that Arthur hadn't been in the sun for over 150 years, so they'd better get inside before he got the mother of all sunburns.

Merlin huffed a laugh into his chest. “Sorry if I scared you,” he mumbled. “I was almost positive it would, an' I could've used my power to get you inside an' save you if it didn't. Figured since I'd have to donate blood to a 'test subject' if it didn't work, I'd rather have it be you than...” He trailed off. “An' I kinda wanted to know if you…if you thought I was worth the risk,” he finished in a tiny voice.

Unable to speak, Arthur's arms tightened around Merlin, answering him without words.

“I know why you did it,” Merlin said quietly, after a long moment of silence.

“Mmm?” Arthur was feeling fuzzy from the _rightness_ of it all, the feeling of Merlin pressed against him, the way Merlin had keened under him and arched up to meet him like no time had passed at all.

“All the stuff from before. Nimueh orderin' you around, why you couldn't tell me, all that shit. I learned more 'bout vamps too.” He jabbed Arthur in the ribs. “But from now on, you gotta tell me _everythin'._ ”

Arthur's hand reached down, running over Merlin's skin, making Merlin tremble against him. “I will,” he promised. “And I'm sorry for…for all of it.”

He paused, and when he continued, his voice sounded weak and pathetic in his own ears. “Does that mean you're…staying?”

Merlin made an exasperated sound. “Duh. I mean, I gotta get back to Japan so we can launch Nu Blood, but after that...” He looked up at Arthur hesitantly. “I was kinda hopin' I could…stay here with you?”

Arthur nuzzled into Merlin's hair. “You don't want to move back into your old house?”

Merlin snorted. “Don't be stupid, I know _you_ know that I mailed the deed to Gwen an' Lance a couple weeks after I left. I got no need to go back there.”

“I might have heard something along those lines.”

“You mean, from your little spy Freya?” Merlin's tone was deeply amused, and Arthur gaped at him.

“How—?”

“Arthur. My sister can _see the future_. She saw Freya in one of her visions, didn't take too much effort to figure out you were keepin' an eye on them all.”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. “I thought I'd been very subtle,” he grumped. “But how did you and Morgana—?”

“Oh, I figured out how to get in touch with Morgana 'bout six months after I left. Some combination of her visions, my mind-reading, an' the fact that we're siblings. She don't got any Dragonlord in her cuz it goes father-son or mother-daughter, but…” He trailed off. “Anyways, it's all very complicated,” he finished patronizingly.

Feeling thoroughly outclassed, Arthur frowned down at him. “Any _other_ surprises I should know about? Figure out how to turn water into wine, by any chance?”

Merlin grinned at him sweetly. “Why? Not like _you_ can drink either.” Then his grin grew mischievous. “Actually, there _is_ somethin' else.”

Arthur groaned. “Naturally.”

“If you're gonna sulk, I ain't gonna tell you.”

Arthur poked him in the stomach. “Come on.”

“Fine.” Draping himself across Arthur's chest, Merlin looked up into the vampire's eyes.

“So,” he began. “You're still the King of Louisiana.”

Arthur made an affirmative noise.

Dropping his eyes to Arthur's chest, Merlin traced the lines of his collarbone with a finger. “What would you think 'bout being the King of…the United Kingdom of America?”

Arthur stared at him. “What?”

Merlin shifted nervously. “Hear me out 'fore you freak. So, Nu Blood. Tastes like me, right?”

Mind whirling, Arthur nodded.

“Right. That's 'cause it _is_ me, kinda. I met those scientists, the ones who invented Tru Blood? A couple of 'em, Dr. Yamaguchi an' his assistant, some British kid named Will, were super cool. So I told them 'bout what I was, an' gave them some blood samples. We've been workin' for the past five years to figure out how to duplicate it.” He paused. “Well, technically, _they've_ been workin' on it while I fucked around Japan an' just popped in now an' then for more blood samples, but…” he shrugged. “Anyways, I get 5% of whatever they sell.”

He looked Arthur in the eye. “I also get exclusive distribution rights to the US. That means I get to control who sells it.”

Arthur's grip on Merlin tightened as the meaning of his words sank in. “Merlin—” he whispered.

Merlin grinned at him. “Some folks'll prob'ly be able to get it on the black market an' stuff, but I figured, if you were the sole supplier of Nu Blood in the US…whatta you think other vamps'd be willin' to do to walk in the sun again? An' my stuff tastes better than Tru Blood, too.”

The possibilities made Arthur's head spin. “I could—”

“You could take over _everythin'_ ,” Merlin whispered, sucking a kiss into Arthur's chest. “I've been keepin' an eye on you too, kinda.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Merlin glanced up at him and blushed. “I mean, I know you're real involved with gettin' vamps an' humans to live together in Louisiana, an' I just thought...” he shrugged again. “What if you could do it for the whole country?”

Merlin gasped with surprise as Arthur surged up, flipping him onto his back and pressing him down into the mattress.

“I love you,” Arthur growled, capturing Merlin's mouth with his own.

Merlin kissed back eagerly, before pushing him off slightly. “You're just sayin' that 'cause I'm offerin' you a kingdom,” he complained.

Arthur looked down into Merlin's sparkling eyes, his own gaze serious. “No,” he said quietly. “That's not why I'm saying it at all.”

Merlin's expression softened, and he reached up to catch Arthur's face in his hands. “I know,” he said in the same tone. Then, arching up, he pressed his lips to Arthur's.

“I love you, too,” he breathed into Arthur's mouth, before pulling Arthur back down onto him.

Outside, the sun shone on.

 

 **The End**

 


End file.
